LES MUSICIENS 2006
by DanteVirgil09
Summary: Part two of ARC ONE. The themes I will explore here are distance and closeness. A human drama from the musicians' points of view. Whether in Lebanon, Brazil, Turkey, the US, Germany, Argentina or Japan, they are linked by a common destiny, music.
1. July 2006, part one

**LES MUSICIENS**

**2006**

**A CROSSOVER STORY**

**This chapter was inspired by the song "Tu me acostumbraste" by Chavela Vargas. As the title suggests, this takes place one year after the last chapter of '2005'. Where the main characters reunite after being separated and recollect how their year went.**

**This is part one of a three-part situation, inspired from an episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations when he was in Beirut, Lebanon. However, it's my take on one of my favorite episodes of the show, told from the teenagers' points of view over a two-week period. So in part, the first three chapters will take place in Beirut, Lebanon.**

**The new characters in this story, which will have larger parts later on, are Fatma Hahira Asgari, Cecilia Chaves Oliveira, and Ahmed Said. These same characters were mentioned once or thrice already in the previous story.**

**Again, I will try to keep clichés to a minimum, but as always, they have a way of creeping up without notice. And more importantly, trying to give a more humanistic approach to the characters and some historical insight, especially since this is becoming a story on the world stage, when nowadays its easy to criticize people based on their nation, culture, language, and ways of looking at life. **

**The story will be one chapter shorter than the previous installment, but by no means the message of the story will be diminished. As I wrote the outline for this story, I watched the film BABEL numerous times for inspiration. And like the previous story, this one went through quite a few drafts until one was finalized. Like the last chapter of '2005', this will be multi-lingual as the story goes on. However, no matter the language, we're connected by our actions.**

**"If a second is all we need, why isn't it enough to change our lives? The world fits into the eternity of a second."-Eliseo Alberto**

**CHAPTER ONE**

A plane lands on the runway and some distance in the air, two more planes, miles apart were preparing to land in the airport. The passengers got off the plane and met the summer heat of the new land they arrived in. As they made their way to the check in stations, getting their luggage, and calling for cabs to take them to their hotels, one sign caught one teenager's eye, along with his family…

**Welcome to Beirut, Lebanon**

**Bienvenue à Beyrouth, Liban**

**أهلا بكم في بيروت، لبنان**

**JULY 2006, WEEK ONE, PART ONE**

**WEDNESDAY, 1:45PM**

Shinji was nervous about making his way to the hotel his old friends were staying at. Not because of the country he's in, but because its been nearly a year since leaving Philadelphia. Since then, his hair became more tousled and reached down to his shoulders. Asuka made recent comments about his hair whenever a live, on camera performance occurred over the course of eight months. He defended his hairstyle, but knew pretty soon he had to cut it…or at least trim it a bit.

After twenty minutes, he arrived at the hotel **Le Royal** that was on top of a hill. As they pulled up to the main entrance, his family checked in for a two-week stay. The reservations were planned out months in advance under Moradi's watchful eye.

The program the orchestra was a selection of pieces by Georg Philipp Telemann, Jean-Philippe Rameau, and Francesco Maria Veracini. There were also a few pieces that are going to be performed by Mohammad Moradi and his Lebanese colleagues from the baroque period as well, from the days of the Moors and a few earlier pieces from Jerusalem. It was in part to show the musicians, their families, and their viewers on the web that once upon a time, the cultures of the Jewish people, the Muslims and the Christians once lived amongst each in Southern Europe, in particular, the Iberian countries of Spain and Portugal. Three divergent paths on a collective search for the truth, and music provided the voice for their longing.

Their rooms were on the floor, it was a shared room complex, where one connected to the other. The parents stayed in one, while Shinji and Haruki stayed in the other. As the two boys unpacked, he received a text from Zane…

[Were at the pool! Alberto saw you and your family coming in the lobby ]

Shinji smiled and texted back…

[Cool! Meet you guys in a bit!]

Shinji closed his phone and noticed Haruki was looking at him, "**それは何シンジ****ですか？** (What is it Shinji?)," he asked.

The former Third Child just smiled, "**アメリカからの私の古い友人がプールでダウンしています。なぜ我々はそれらを満たしてい****ませんか？** (My old friends from America are down at the pool. Why don't we meet them?)," Shinji suggested and Haruki immediately agreed. They then told their parents who also agreed, since they have to meet up with Professor Moradi down in the lobby.

Shinji and Haruki headed downstairs via elevator and went to the pool, despite their exhaustion. Once at the pool, Shinji reunited with Wilfredo, Alberto, Gilberto, and Zane. Shinji introduced Haruki to them, "**春樹、これらは私の友人です****。** (Haruki, these are my friends.)," he said their names and Haruki bowed and shook their hands, as did they.

"Guys, heard anything from Dante or Asuka yet," Shinji asked, hoping they're on their way.

"I got a text from Asuka saying that she'll be arriving in twenty minutes," Zane said as she showed Shinji the text message, "And I got a text from Dante that he'll be arriving in forty minutes," Wilfredo said as he also showed Shinji his cellphone with the text.

He read both messages and sighed, "Well that's good to hear," he added with a small smile. The American teens hugged him one at a time, "Well its good to see you again. And in Lebanon for Christ sake," Wilfredo said with excitement in his voice.

Shinji looked at him, "Forgive him you guys," Zane assured the two Japanese boys, "He gets excited like the history buff we all know he is," he added and Gilberto and Alberto grunted/chuckled in agreement.

"Just because of Montreal last year, I'm now labeled the history geek. Jesus guys," Wilfredo said exasperated. The guys laughed and Wilfredo chuckled a bit himself, admitting that he obsesses over history.

Haruki looked at the Americans and then at Shinji, talking and laughing. Although he felt slightly left out, he enjoyed watching them relishing their reunion. He's never seen his younger brother smiling this much. Most of the time, he's more introverted, but by no means a wallflower, just lost in his thoughts. Even though he's made friends back in Kyoto, he could tell he shared something unique with the Americans.

"**春樹** (Haruki)," Shinji called his name and he snapped back into reality, "**シンジうん？****それは何ですか？** (Yeah Shinji? What is it)," he asked, "**の私たちのものを取得し、これらの人に参加し****てみましょう。** (Let's get our stuff and join these guys)," he suggested, "Unless you guys have been here long enough already," he turned his attention to the Americans.

"Nah, we've only been here for 10 minutes," Gilberto said and ran back to the pool, doing a cannonball, "**すばらしい！春樹に来る****！** (Great! Come on Haruki!)," Shinji excitedly said and both ran back to the elevator.

"It's nice to see him again. Especially like this," Zane said as he lied back on the pool chair, "I know, more cheerful now. And his hair grew out? Jesus, I wouldn't be surprised he's a lady killer now in Japan," Wilfredo said as he dipped himself in the pool.

The Cantonese/Chinese American chuckled at his statement, "Asuka is going to kill you for that," he added and Wilfredo just laughed.

After a few minutes, Shinji and Haruki came back a few minutes later. Shinji came out dressed in blue swimming trunks and an open white long sleeved shirt, wearing sandals. Haruki came out in red trunks and a towel around his neck and barefooted. Shinji went in the pool to join Alberto, Wilfredo, and Gilberto in a mock game of water polo, while Zane attempted to talk to Haruki. It turned out Shinji's older brother knew English (spoke it fairly well) and was a high school senior who will be graduating in Spring 2007. Haruki also revealed how he was surprised that Shinji could communicate in English so well and could understand German and Italian extremely well. Zane smiled at this and the two continued with their conversation.

**2:15PM**

Asuka exited the airport with her mom and her mom's boyfriend, now fiancé. Going down the highway towards the hotel, she couldn't help but look at the startling contradictions of the country. Yes Lebanon is a Middle Eastern nation, but it is also westernized in their outlook when passing mosques and billboards of models advertising perfumes and the latest fashion trends. And also, seeing signs in English, French, and Arabic, an amazing level of tolerance in the country.

After a few minutes she arrived at the hotel, only to be greeted by Mohammad Moradi, "Ah Asuka! Its great to see you again," both exchanged friendly hugs, "Great to see you and this is my mom Angela and her boyfriend Pascal," she introduced them to her old music mentor and professor.

The adults greeted each other and said they will meet again in a bit. Angela checked the family into their double bed suite. But their room was on the fourth floor so after settling in, Asuka decided to head for the pool to take in some sun, dressed in a black and red bikini and there encountered her old friends and a certain someone.

"**Shinji! Mein Gott! Sie befinden sich hier****!** (Shinji! My God! You're here!)," she yelled out happily. Shinji turned around in the pool and noticed his familiar, redheaded girlfriend. He quickly got out of the pool, ran up to Asuka and hugged her, "**Mein Gott! Es ist schön, dich wiederzusehen****!** (My God! It's great to see you again!)," he said and gave her a light kiss on her lips. She returned the favor and Shinji brought Asuka to his brother.

"**春樹は、この飛鳥、私のガールフレンド****。** (Haruki, this Asuka, my girlfriend)," Shinji introduced her, "**アスカは、これは私の兄春樹****です。** (Asuka this is my older brother Haruki)," and then introduced her to him. The two exchanged handshakes and greeted each other politely.

The three American boys in the pool got out and went up to Asuka and hugged her in gracious reunion, "Nice to see all of you again and…I see Dante hasn't arrived yet. That Italian, he's always late," she said with humor.

"Asuka why don't you join our team? We were playing water polo," Gilberto offered, "Sure why not, a way to pass the time," she agreed, she'll tan later.

"Three against two? That's bull," Wilfredo complained, "I'll join you guys," Haruki offered and Shinji was glad to have his brother on his team, "All right, its settled," Asuka said.

"And I'll be the referee," Zane said as he watched his friend reentering the pool and the game commenced.

More of the musicians came from their rooms after getting adjusted. There were some who were nervous about being in the Middle East, but later got comfortable and let their worries slip away at the pool and looking at the scenery of the city below and the sea just nearby. Many were already making plans to head for the beach, but after rehearsals for the next two weeks.

**2:48PM**

Dante arrived at the front entrance of the hotel with his parents and older sister. They checked in and head for their rooms, again, one suite for the parents while for their children; their room was connected to theirs. Dante and his sister decided to head for the pool to sunbathe for a while, just to relax from their long ass flight. He wore a black and red speedo, while his sister wore a navy blue bikini.

They told their parents who also said they were heading downstairs to meet with the orchestra's conductor/music professor. The two Argentines saw two available seats to lounge around and Dante immediately went up to Asuka, now exhausted from an intense game of polo.

"**Dante, schließlich Sie zeigte sich! **(Dante, finally you showed up)," she greeted with a smile and hugged her Italian comrade, "**Lo so, la colpa l'aeroporto di nuovo dell'Argentina****.** (I know, I blame the airport back in Argentina)," he said and returned her hug. He introduced his older sister, Adriana to Asuka and both shook hands. Dante then went over to the others, greeting his four best American friends and Shinji in hugs worthy of comrades. Asuka and Adriana talked for a bit until they got to concentrate on tanning.

The boys decided to head back upstairs to clean up; leaving Dante to lie back and take in the Mediterranean sun he has missed for so long. Memories of his past childhood, and stories as old as time immemorial his grandparents would tell and retell on his behalf.

Leaving Dante, Haruki, Asuka, and Adriana on the pool deck, the boys went back up to their rooms to shower and put on fresh clothes. After ten minutes, they ventured back down to the lobby to ask Professor Moradi a few questions about the repertoire for the next two weeks; they encountered three new musicians they met online last year.

"Holy crap! I can't believe this," Zane yelled in excitement. Right at the door leading to a reception room, with Moradi and his colleagues discussing last minute details, Ahmed, Cecilia, and Fatma were there and they too noticed the boys.

Alberto and Wilfredo were too busy staring at Cecilia, an Afro-Brazilian as tall as they were, with her hair in curls tied in a pony tail, chocolate brown skin glistened due to the heat outside…and of course the figure they had to admire, a result of capoeira training and dancing. She dressed in a yellow blouse, white pants and sandals. Another talent she revealed during last year's summer and throughout the 2005/2006 school year, she could sing amazingly well in the mezzo-soprano and contralto range. Growing up in Salvador, Brazil, her background consists of seeing gang violence and some of her friends dying in the hands of the police, since she lives in city's favelas. But her father's community center allows kids to have classes on capoeira and other cultural activities, free of charge.

Gilberto snapped them out of it and the guys went over to introduce themselves. Ahmed trumped all of their fear and misconceptions of Middle Eastern people; a huge talent on the violin and viola, rivaling Gilberto and Asuka's skills, wore dark brown cargo pants, a white long sleeved shirt and sporting glasses for his nearsightedness. His figure was that of a soccer player, athletic, and also had a wicked intellect, often politicized about the affairs in the Middle East. Logical since he came from a family who taught at the university in matters of Political Science and History. His family has also witnessed the effects of Lebanon's past civil war and the recent occupation of Syrian forces, until they retreated last year due to massive protests.

They then turned their eyes on Fatma and can now see why Dante has a huge crush on her. She's a Middle Easterner as well, in this case of Iranian descent, coming from Turkey. She had superb talent on the violin and during the whole year, she demonstrated her adeptness on the baroque violin as well as the viola d'amore. She had thick dark brown hair that was almost black, tanned skin, almond shaped brown eyes, banana shaped eyebrows and a figure that was on par with Cecilia's, athletic with arms and legs toned. She dressed in white blouse, blue jeans, and sandals. Her mother is a professor of Journalism back in Istanbul and has a sister three years younger; her father is also running an independent news blog, but he was still in Tehran, Iran under surveillance.

"Jesus! I can't believe you guys are really here," Zane exclaimed, "I know! Neither can we," Ahmed agreed to their surreal gathering.

"And…we just overheard some information that's going to be good and going to suck at the same time," Ahmed said with a slight groan. Zane asked what it was and he whispered into the Asian American's ear.

"What," he exclaimed in exhaustion and a bit of laziness on his part. He told his friends about that and they groaned with equal intensity.

They headed for the pool to tell this new update on the issue of rehearsals. The rest were still sunbathing or swimming in the pool. Zane and the others told the other musicians, while Fatma and Cecilia went up to Dante and Asuka.

"Looks like you two are enjoying yourselves," Cecilia looked down on the German and Italian.

"Cecilia? My God! How are you," she got up and shook her hand vigorously, "I'm fine, but the flight took a lot out of me. We arrived last night and we slept like the dead," she joked about her private suffering, "And your English is excellent," Asuka commented and Cecilia brushed it off abashedly.

While Asuka and Cecilia talked to each other, Dante and Fatma stood in front of one another, not really knowing how to interact. It was one thing to talk to one another via video chatting, but it was a completely different dimension when talking on a one-to-one visceral level.

"Hey Dante," she said softly, wanting to say something else, but at the moment, a bit tongue tied, "Hey Fatma," he replied back, and thankfully for her, he was in a similar dilemma.

After a brief moment, Dante cleared his throat, "You're much lovelier in person," he said slyly, finding his groove again. Fatma relaxed and found her rhythm again, "Likewise, although, I have to wonder if you're really as bright as you are online," she replied in a similar fashion.

He responded by raising an eyebrow in an intrigued fashion, "Well, when we're alone during these two weeks, I'll show you how bright I can be," he stepped a foot closer in front of his crush.

Fatma smiled, hoping she could learn more about her crush. The two went off to the other side of the pool, overlooking the city below and talked for a bit, describing their flights, their exhaustion, and excitement about being in Beirut. After ten minutes, everyone decided to head back to their rooms and change.

Zane then told his friends, along with the former Children about Moradi's plans for the evening. Instead of using the reception room for rehearsals during their two-week stay; they would have to travel to the university tonight for their first rehearsal. They decidedly groaned in exhaustion and laziness, hoping their first day would be nothing but pool time and lounging around the hotel…sadly the god of the ensemble had other plans.

**4:55pm**

The young musicians have been in the music hall for about half an hour now. Tuning their instruments and reacquainting themselves with their familiar setup, prior to a live performance posted on their website with international musicians. Some of the teenagers looked over their repertoire and felt the nerves coming on. Over the past year, they've performed music by Alessandro Scarlatti, Johann Sebastian Bach, Georg Friedrich Händel, and Antonio Vivaldi.

However, with this repertoire of Francesco Maria Veracini, Jean-Philippe Rameau, Carlos Seixas, Marin Maris, and Heinrich Ignaz Franz von Biber, they felt their talents are about to be tested, as well as promoting this music for their classmates and viewers their age online. This music was unknown to many, even to those who studied classical music for years.

They noticed their parents sitting in the chairs below, wondering how the dynamic of the orchestra will play out. The teenagers were of course nervous, but determined to give their best during the rehearsal and their second international performance in the next two days. Their first piece will be **Overture No. 5 in B Flat Major **by **Francesco Maria Veracini.**

Mohammad Moradi walked up the stage and clapped his hands to settle down the musicians, "All right everyone, I'm glad to see everyone here. I know most of you are exhausted from your flights, but the sooner we finish rehearsals tonight, the sooner we can head for bed."

The students nodded in agreement and readied themselves. Their music professor/conductor raised up his arms. Then the music began playing throughout the auditorium…

**THURSDAY, 2:11pm**

After a morning of rehearsals, absorbing advice from their music mentor/conductor, most of the musicians left the university for lunch, with the help from the music students in the music hall. Their parents accompanied them, while Dante and Fatma decided to find a place to eat on their own. Their parents were a bit worried, but Fatma assured them they wouldn't get lost.

Cars passed by as well as mopeds and scooters as Fatma and Dante headed down to a restaurant called **'Le Chef'**. She wore jeans with sneakers and a black shirt while he wore white pants, a pair of Converse with a blue plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves. They stepped inside and after getting greeted by the owner, they sat down and ordered lunch. As their food cooked in the kitchen, the two sat down talking.

"So Dante, how do you like visiting a Middle Eastern country," Fatma asked. Dante looked at her while taking a sip of water.

"I don't know really. I mean, I've never had any negative preconceptions about the Middle East and…meeting you last year via MySpace made me want to visit Lebanon and…" he started to speak quickly, until Fatma cleared her throat, which made him pause for a moment.

"It's a simple question Tripodo. Do you like visiting the Middle East? Yes or no?"

Dante looked at her, slightly embarrassed, "Sorry. To answer your question, it would be yes. I do like visiting this part of the world. Its where the Italian Renaissance got its start," he responded.

Fatma smiled at his response, "Finally a European who knows history. But I don't understand why many would deny this fact? I'm asking you because, with no offense to the other musicians, you're the only one who could probably answer this question the best. You are Italian after all."

Dante chuckled, "Yeah well, I don't really know how to answer that. It could relate to ethno-centric ideologies, European colonialism, imperialism, past resentments from the Crusades, religious fundamentalism…a lot of shit basically," he said with a small laugh. Laughing at the absurd truths of the past.

She laughed as well, "Yes a lot! It's strange to think we know more about the Europeans than you guys know yourselves. And yet, you strive to know a lot about other cultures," she added to the absurdity.

"Are you talking about Europe or the entire Western world in general," he asked, now stimulated by his intelligent, and hot friend.

Fatma thought about it for a moment, "I would say a bit on the entire West, but I'm mainly talking about Europe right now. It's the world I'm most in contact with. The United States, Canada, or even Latin America I'm entirely in the dark," she explained her limitations on understanding.

But Dante was curious with her response, "Wait a minute. You're not entirely ignorant of the US or Latin America. Don't forget, you're in contact with the orchestra from Philadelphia, my friends in Germany and Japan…and myself in Argentina," he stated, hoping she would get the hint.

She looked at him, feeling her face getting warmer a bit, but credited it to the warm weather of the city, "Right. Well, I suppose I'm not that ignorant," she said and looked at him with warm eyes. He felt his face getting warmer, but like Fatma, credited it to the warm weather.

Then, after their semi-serious conversation, their food arrived. For the rest of their lunch, they talked about their school lives, poking a bit of fun on a few of the musicians, and their brief crushes…

"And he just looked at me a bit confused and walked away. I swear, nowadays guys prefer the big busted idiots," she said half dejected.

Dante swallowed his mouthful of food, "Well he's an idiot. And so are the other guys at your school," he commented upset about her rejection.

"Well the same goes for that girl you mentioned. Calling you uncool for enjoying the harpsichord," she also commented on his rejection and also upset.

"Thank you! I mean...I can't understand why you were rejected! You're extraordinarily intelligent, articulate, talented, gorgeous…" he stopped but Fatma didn't notice and added her thoughts.

"And you are talented, well read, incredibly smart, handsome…" she also stopped and both teens blushed. For once, neither said a word and continued eating, briefly taking glances at one another. However, in the midst of eating, both shyly smiled and started thinking of other possibilities during their two-week stay.

**2:47pm**

Shinji and Asuka left one restaurant with their friends in the front, talking amongst themselves. She wore a white sundress with black patterns with black low heels and her hair in a bun. He however sported a black polo shirt with white pants and low shoes with no socks. They started talking about what was said inside when Shinji reacted negatively when she explained she once beat up a male student who tried to feel her up. He was dubbed the jealous lover by one of the musicians and Asuka had to defend him. Then Gilberto playfully said she was 'defending her man' and both blushed.

"Shinji, thanks for caring. But you didn't have to overreact. I took care of it, in my fashion anyway," she said with a sly smile, remembering the joy of making the poor boy's nose bleed.

Shinji sighed, "I know, but since we're 'together', I didn't feel comfortable when you mentioned it. Get me really pissed off that some bastard tried that," he said still kind of upset.

"Again thanks and once we head back to the hotel I can calm you down again, unless I excite you too much," she teased him and he blushed heavily, "Asuka," he stammered and laughed. He also put his arm around her waist to bring her closer to him.

She chuckled a bit, "Amazing to think we've arrived at this point in our relationship. When we first started going out, we were…at odds with one another," she said with nostalgia for last year.

Shinji raised his eyebrows, "Wow Asuka, you're actually picking your words carefully," he playfully bantered and got a playful hit on his chest.

"I'm serious. Last year, we were still reeling from what happened to us. And now, separated by thousands of miles and only to be brought together again for two weeks…I don't know whether to feel frustrated or thankful for the time we've been given," she said, now feeling a bit down.

Shinji looked down at her and immediately knew what she was trying to say, "We've sort of talked about this before we left America. And I think I said that our new arrangements weren't enough," he said in a low voice.

Asuka caught what he said, "Great, I'm becoming you," she jokingly said, "But I guess from what I was before, it's a vast improvement," she said and felt Shinji's grasp tighten lovingly around her waist.

She smiled back and both got in the van with their friends, who still talked about other things the two former Children didn't bother to listen to for once. Their drive back to the hotel was an uneventful one, except one of the musicians said they should visit certain places in the country once they finished most of their rehearsals.

After five minutes they arrived back to the hotel and rest for a bit until the last bit of rehearsals for tomorrow night's concert. Shinji and Asuka headed up to his room and remembered his parents were with Moradi and his colleagues while Haruki was at the pool, trying to hit on some American women.

Shinji lied down on the bed facing each other and caressing each other's hair. Shinji scooted closer until his nose touched Asuka's, "Stop breathing, it's tickling me," she said with a bit of a laugh to her comment.

Shinji just smiled, "But you smell good. Can I just stay here and admire your beauty," he said in a half joking, but overall sincere tone. Asuka just chuckled at him warm heartedly, "I suppose I can allow you such a pleasure," she said nonchalantly, but still in a soft warm voice.

**Bannst mich in diese K****ü****hle,**

**Gibst nur im Traum Geh****ö****r. **

**Ach, auf dem weichen Pf****ü****hle**

**Schlafe! Was willst du mehr?**

She finished, "That was from a poem called **'Nachtgesang' **by Johann Wolfgang van Goethe. Nocturne in the English translation," she added.

Shinji smiled, "It's beautiful Asuka. Sorry I can't recite any equally beautiful Japanese poem for you," he said as he continued caressing her hair.

"There's always a next time my little Casanova," he said jokingly said and Shinji gave a chuckle, "I'm not a player you know that."

Asuka smiled and rubbed his hair, "And I'm glad you're not, but since we have huge distances between us, its okay to have some fun," she said with the most civility she could muster.

Shinji smiled, albeit a small one. He then lowered his head and started kissing her and to his pleasure, she responded back, warmly. Their innocent kissing quickly turned into French kissing and over the course of a few minutes, Shinji sat up with Asuka on his lap, gently necking each other. Then Asuka had Shinji lie down on his back and both straightened out their bodies, with her head on his chest.

"True, but I also want to see that when we do reunite together again, we can try more things," he said softly with slight sternness in his voice. Like a boyfriend who is sure he found his 'one girl'. Both looked at one another and the two stayed this way until they took a nap, embracing one another.

Unbeknownst to them, Haruki stood at the doorway, discreetly peeking inside and watched the two sleeping and genuinely happy with each other, "**仲間を移動するための方法。彼女はキーパー****です。** (Way to go bro. She's a keeper)," he whispered and went to the bathroom to clean up.

**FRIDAY, 9:25PM**

The orchestra started playing **Overture No. 5 in B Flat Major** by **Francesco Maria Veracini**, a composer they only started to love from their just finished school year. Albeit, they only performed his sonatas sporadically with only four to five musicians at the most; as opposed to the present with 18 musicians.

At first they didn't really care for the composer, especially when they looked at a portrait of him, they figured he would sound similar if not the same as Antonio Vivaldi or any of the other Italian composers from the time. Even Dante had some reservations, but it was more to the technical skill needed rather than the superficiality of one man. However, as they began to play his music throughout the year, they noticed how this composer rivaled and even surpassed the talent of Antonio Vivaldi. Moradi dubbed him the Beethoven of the Baroque Period for his emotional outbursts in the Court of Dresden and near unrivaled talent on the violin.

Gilberto and Asuka had their moments where they argued at one another over how to play certain bars of music. Dante would come in and try to set them straight, since his knowledge in this genre of music is only eclipsed by Moradi himself, but that would only set the stage for a fire. And at times, he, Gilberto and his German colleague would get into fierce arguments until Moradi put his foot down. The other musicians reveled in the challenge, especially tonight. The aggressiveness of the piece as well as the creative sophistication of Veracini, he did remind them of Beethoven.

Their parents in the audience in the university knew of their children's talents on their respective instruments and even seen their live performances with the collaboration from international musicians. But only tonight could they witness the pure enthusiastic energy of their playing and their growing emotional maturity in their performances. They also harbor secret fears whether or not their kids will be able to find good careers in music, but only wanted the best for their kids. But seeing them tonight for a full 16 minutes of beautiful music, they started to have genuine hope. Hope that this orchestra might transform into something broader than just an ensemble for period performance for solely baroque music.

After finishing their segment, they bowed and exited the stage. They retreated to the audience and sat with their parents. After a few moments, they noticed their professor Mohammad Moradi walking on stage carrying a zither with one of his five colleagues (three men and two women) carrying with them an instrument that looked like a viol and the others bearing other instruments including an oud and an percussive drum specific to the Middle East, harp and one of the women was presumed to be the singer, a Spanish graduate student. They performed **El moro de Antequera **a Sephardic Jewish song from the long past days of the Moors in Spain. Performed on a rebab (a viol like instrument), two lutes, an oud, a flute and a percussive instrument.

The three pieces selected for the last half of the concert completely stunned the American and international students, except for the Middle Easterners present. Alberto was transfixed by the oud and had a growing desire to learn the instrument and Wilfredo felt some sort of nostalgia for the singing, knowing the nearly forgotten past of the Middle East coming to the Iberian Peninsula. Dante looked at Fatma down the row and the two glanced at each other briefly, knowing their cultural linkage. Asuka and Shinji held hands in the dark, absorbing the music. Cecilia just looked on and attempted to imagine dance steps that might go well with the music, but after a while she relented and just enjoyed the music. Gilberto and Zane were on some level slightly intimidated by the music, as were the other American musicians.

**10:55pm**

The musicians were back to the hotel, exhausted from their daily excursions and of course their demanding rehearsals. The teens slumped back to their rooms with their parents and their only thoughts were solely on what to do the next day.

Mohammad along with his wife and daughter stayed at his parents' home for the duration of the trip. After going over the program for the next few days, he along with his wife headed for bed. His daughter posted the updated information on the orchestra's website. Zane assured her that the website doesn't have any bugs so the concert will be posted after the two weeks are over. She collected the cameras and viewed the footage before heading for bed around midnight or so.

**WEEK TWO, WEDNESDAY**

**9:34PM**

The musicians were out on the town, enjoying themselves after Moradi gave them the day off. Their next concert wasn't for the next two days, performing a piece by Rameau. He sat down on a table with the musicians' parents, eating breakfast and catching up on the news.

"**Senhor** Moradi, what's up for tomorrow since our children are with your daughter and the university's students enjoying their day off," Fernando, Wilfredo's father asked as he set down the newspaper.

Moradi sipped his tea, "Tomorrow we'll rehearse the selected piece by Jean-Philippe Rameau and after that we'll perform the final piece by Georg Philipp Telemann. Also, during the end of those performances, my colleagues and I will perform more pieces," he explained and looked at the parents.

"So what is your overall goal in all of this," Angela, Asuka's mom asked, "To present your kids the other side of the Middle East. Providing musical performances with cultural and historical insights. Something that is lacking nowadays," he said, hoping they understood and don't take offense.

Soledad, Alberto's mom spoke up, "To be honest, my husband and I were nervous about coming here. Because of the news presented back home, but being here, listening to the music and eating the food," her food bit made the parents smile and chuckle a bit, "I can see this is really beneficial for our children," she added.

Takuya, Shinji's dad spoke up, "I completely agree with you. This is really beneficial, not only for possible music careers, but giving them a more culturally aware outlook on life," his wife rubbed his shoulder lovingly and he gave a slight smile to her.

"However, we should note that not everyone back in the States are in favor of this orchestra," Gilberto's mom, Maria spoke up and continued, "They say this won't work due to the lack of funding for school orchestras."

"Not only that, its mainly lack of interest," Manuel, Gilberto's father explained, "The young people today might have noble ideas they want to pursue, but the lack of commitment to carry them out is what's stunting many music programs from developing in our country."

Carlos, Dante's father looked at him and countered, "I disagree. I disagree on half of what you have said. Yes, there are people who lack commitment, but they have drive. It's the circumstances that hold them back. The thing we have to work on as parents is ridding them of indifference."

"I agree," Laura, Zane's mom spoke up, "Indifference is what's killing most artistic programs nowadays. Specifically because many don't think the arts are beneficial to society when compared to engineering, finances, health services," she gave her point as she took a bite of her melon.

Wilfredo's mom, Mariza looked at him, "Why just indifference? Why not apathy or conflicting preconceived notions we all have," she asked.

Moradi responded, "Because indifference breeds apathy. It also breeds ignorance and hatred," he said with a heavy voice and the table was silent for a moment. Then they resumed their conversations.

**10:15am**

The teenage musicians headed for the Hariri Memorial with a guide, who is a graduate student at the university. He showed them where Hariri was assassinated and nearby was the memorial.

"How do you think Danny and the others are doing back home," Zane asked Wilfredo. He looked at his best friend, "I bet still bat shit confused that we even came here at all," he said with a laugh.

Zane rolled his eyes, "Yeah, I bet. Listen, since the start of sophomore year, things have calmed down. I mean, not that much things that breaks souls or something," he said quietly to Wilfredo as they looked around the memorial while the others where at adjacent points talking.

Wil sighed, "Yeah…last year was intense. Like a drawn out beat down that punches you in the stomach and you keep getting up, only to find something else that's just bizarre and dangerous."

"Do you think since then, Danny understands," Zane asked, "Oh yeah! No doubt about that, but he and I…we don't mix," Wilfredo explained as he glanced around to see various people, Christians and Muslims walking around without killing each other.

"How do you figure," Zane asked with an incredulous look, not buying what his friend had just said. Wilfredo just shrugged his shoulders, "A hunch I guess," he stated simply.

The two then rejoined their friends as they headed outside into the daylight, only to hear disturbingly distinct sounds in the distance that only came closer…automatic weapons fire.

They walked down a bit and noticed cars and trucks passing by, waving Hezbollah flags. But the image that shook them the most was that kids were inside, a few were their age but the rest were 12 or younger. Firing flares into the air and gunshots, celebrating something.

"What are they saying," Cecilia asked Fatma who stood with an angry expression, "They're saying they captured two Israeli soldiers," she said with restrained anger as she watched the scene unfold.

"And they killed seven or so down the south, near the border with Israel," Ahmed added and the three looked on and glanced at the other musicians, who also asked the older university students for confirmation.

Fatma then heard Alberto to her left next to Gilberto, "Man, Moradi is going to flip when he finds out," he said in a harsh, but shocked tone of voice. Gilberto simply nodded, not knowing how to respond.

As the last of the cars with Hezbollah banners drove up the road and disappeared into the traffic, the students decided to head back to the hotel. They head for their vans and drove away.

**7:30pm**

Later in the evening, one of Moradi's colleagues sang a Palestinian Lament, not really written down but of oral tradition accompanied by one lute and two woodwind instruments that had an eerily graceful sound. Since finding out about the events unfolding earlier in the day, he decided to perform other distinct pieces with his colleagues. They also performed an Armenian Lament.

Afterwards, the intermission came, leaving Les Musiciens members to themselves, talking about what's going to happen next.

"I'm nervous. I'm thinking about various events that might play out," Asuka said with anxiety in her voice, but she tempered it so she wouldn't overreact.

"I'm anxious as well," Cecilia said and looked at Fatma and Ahmed, "What do you two think? What's going to happen tomorrow," she asked what everyone is wondering.

"Tonight, we're going to see what's the extent of the events and tomorrow…tomorrow we're going to see international reactions to the state of affairs here," Ahmed, looking surprisingly calm.

"This country has historically fucked over for centuries. You know that right," Wilfredo pointed out the obviously sad fact of Lebanon, one which Ahmed laughed a bit to, "I know its true, but what can you do," he shrugged his shoulders and gestured his hands in line with his statement.

"I love that," Fatma spoke up, smiling and laughing, "That spiteful streak that is truly Lebanese. Basically 'I don't care if you're bombing the beach! I'm going to stay here and work on my tan!' That shit rocks," she added.

Ahmed laughed and spoke up, "Well that's Lebanon. You guys have to understand that nobody here wants to go back to the past where everybody was divided and fighting each other. And to add to that, we live to the max here, knowing that…that there might not be a tomorrow," he added to Fatma's statement.

Wilfredo looked at him and spoke up, "But today was unusual right," he asked and Ahmed looked at him with a worried and concerned looked that was underneath the laughing façade from just moments earlier.

"I think so…Because Lebanon has been through so much and everybody has a story here," he said somberly. The teenagers sat in silence for a few moments until they heard the doors opening, seeing the audience returning and their parents returning as well. They looked at each other for brief moments until the program for tonight resumed.

**THURSDAY, 8:12am**

Fatma groggily woke up and the sunlight pierced through the window. She got up and went to turn on the television. Her mom and sister were still asleep so she lowered the volume, but then the news for the morning jumped out and punched her in the stomach.

She turned up the volume, "ف**اطمه**** عزیز، چه می گذرد؟ **(Fatma dear, what is going on?)," her mother woke up and when she looked at the screen, she knew what would come next, "خ**دای من****!** (My God!)," she said under breath.

The news showed that the airport they flown into, was bombed by Israeli fighter jets.

**The piece by Francesco Maria Veracini was from their album "Concerti 'per l'orchestra di Dresda'" performed by Musica Antiqua Koln. The other piece, which was a Sephardic Jewish song came from the album "Díaspora Sefardí" performed by Hesperion XXI, under the direction of Jordi Savall. Great music on both albums! **

**Less action here as far as ghost fighting is concerned or even the Campa boy from the previous story. I used Google translator for the languages involved and for those who don't know, I used Persian in the end. Its not Arabic.**

**Well, thus ends the first chapter of '2006'. Read, review, critique, and see you readers in chapter two.**


	2. July 2006, part two

**LES MUSICIENS**

**2006**

**A CROSSOVER STORY**

**In this chapter, it's more about the teenagers stranded in and around the hotel. According to the episode of No Reservations and headlines at the time, other nationalities got out of the country of Lebanon days before the Americans. I don't know why, so I'm not even going to speculate. And since this is a crossover to begin with, let's not forget, Danny will appear in this chapter.**

**No musical piece I could search or have in my music collection adequately helped me in the writing process here. So instead, I found silence and listening to random pieces of music more helpful this time around. **

**As with the Campa boy from the last story, he will make a cameo appearance, but not in Lebanon watching over Wilfredo. It's more restrained than that.**

**BEIRUT, LEBANON**

**LE ROYAL HOTEL, 12:34PM**

The musicians and their parents were either at the pool or in their hotel rooms trying to contact loved ones back in their respective countries. Since Wednesday's incident with Hezbollah kidnapping two Israeli soldiers, and Thursday's turn of events when the Israelis bombed the airport. Everyone in the hotel were waiting to see how things will turn out and working on finding a way back to their homes.

"**Wie werden in der Regel angewidert sind Sie von der plötzlichen Wendung der Ereignisse?** (How are generally disgusted are you by the sudden turn of events?)," Asuka asked Dante while the two lay out in the sun, absorbing its rays, "**Beh, siamo dannatamente fortunato ad essere qui. E, è estremamente surreale sapere che il conflitto reale è in lontananza.** (Well, we're damn lucky to be here. And, its extremely surreal to know that the actual conflict is in the far distance.)," Dante replied lazily, laced with anger.

Asuka sighed, "**Wo ist Ahmed?** (Where is Ahmed?)," she asked. Dante lifted his head slightly and looked around, "**Penso che sia dentro.** (I think he's inside.)," he said and lied back down on the lounge chair.

The two were silent for a moment until Dante spoke up, "**Sono preoccupato per lui. Ogni volta che torna a casa ora ... non so se la sua casa sta per essere bombardata dagli aerei da caccia ... è ricorda quello che abbiamo passato.** (I'm worried for him. Whenever he goes home now…I don't know if his home is going to get bombed by fighter jets…it's reminiscent of what we went through.)"

Asuka turned her head, and so did he and the two Europeans faced each other, "**Wir können nicht einfach so loslassen können wir? Und selbst wenn wir tun, diese Welt ist unheimlich vertraut auf unsere alte.**(We can't let it go can we? And even if we do, this world is eerily familiar to our old one.)," she said with melancholic nostalgia in her voice, "**Ich glaube nicht, sollten wir uns von unserer Vergangenheit. Und außerdem ... diese Welt ist unsere Wahl. Eine Realität, die wir gewählt, um von vorn beginnen. Wen kümmert es, wenn es im Arsch?** (I don't think we should let go of our pasts. And besides…this world is our choice. A reality we chose to start over. Who cares if it's fucked up?)," she added.

The two lied back on their lounge chairs absorbing the sun. Another helicopter came across the sky and its engines roared loudly, "**Beh ... che ha ucciso l'umore.**(Well…that killed the mood.)," Dante said. Asuka chuckled.

**CHAPTER TWO**

**JULY 2008, WEEK TWO, PART TWO**

**FRIDAY, 12:47PM, DAY TWO**

"Asuka! Dante! What are you guys doing," Wilfredo shouted. The two Europeans sighed, "Trying to relax and keeping our minds stable," Asuka said as she and her Italian friend lied down on their stomachs and tanning their backs.

"How are you guys handling this whole thing," he asked the two and they sighed contently, "Do you remember what we told you last year. About our pasts," Dante mentioned and Wilfredo nodded.

Asuka continued, "Well, this is how we handle it. We compartmentalize it. Enjoying the sun, the ocean breeze, the seagulls cawing overhead, and of course, the helicopters flying around."

Wilfredo then sat on the available lounge chair next to them, "Your pasts are still…way heavy to believe and…I know there are some things you guys would keep to yourselves for now. But, you know…even if some of us have been through rough shit, this is on a different level. That's why I asked."

The two turned over and sat down. Dante moved to Asuka's chair and faced him, "Well, we talked to some of the Lebanese here and they told us that…if they can visualize the city its too close. But if they put in their minds that since it's a few kilometers away, the conflict's in another city," Asuka said.

"And you have to remember, there are more important things to consider than the bombing," Dante said and continued, "Power, food, water, shelter…those things should be our main focus than our personal safety."

Wilfredo looked at them, knowing they were right and he, along with the other should follow suit, "Yeah. I'm guessing the others are doing the same thing," he looked up at the hotel.

Dante and Asuka reached over and rubbed his back and shoulders, "Things work out. They always do," Asuka said comfortingly.

**12:57PM**

Shinji was listening to his iPod while his brother watched the news. As the song "all is full of love" by Björk began playing, he looked at the news describing the events unfolding.

"**シンジねえ、何時に帰ってくるつもりママとパパですか？** (Hey Shinji, what time is mom and dad gonna come back?)," Haruki asked, "**私は半時間かそこらで考える。彼らはいつ、どのように我々は家に帰るつもりです見に大使館に行ってきました。** (I think in half an hour or so. They went to the embassy to see when and how we're going to go home.)," Shinji revealed.

"**どのように我々は家に帰るつもりですか？** (How are we going to go home?)," the older brother asked, "**我々は、おそらくシリア、キプロス、あるいは頭部に向かうでしょう。私はそれが私たちにとって物事が容易になり、我々は推測べきではないと思う。** (We'll probably head for Cyprus or even head for Syria. But I don't think we should guess, it will make things easier for us.)," Shinji said calmly.

"**クール。** (Cool.)," Haruki said and tried to take his mind off of the news and switched channels. Normally the silence wouldn't bother him, but given the circumstances, he wanted to talk more and wanted to know how Shinji is staying completely calm and not freaking out.

Haruki turned off the TV and got on Shinji's bed and he looked up at his older brother, "**碇オールライト。なぜ、地獄は、この全部についての組織単位（****OU****）をおかしくされていません？それはこの状況についてパニックに並べ替えることが正常ではないでしょうか？空港は逝ってしまったと限り我々が言うことができるように、それは家に帰るために数日かかるだろう。では、なぜあなたはとても穏やかで、たわごとですか？** (Alright Ikari. Why the hell aren't you freaking ou about this whole thing? Isn't it normal to sort of panic about this situation? The airport's gone and as far as we can tell, it's going to take days to head back home. So why are you so calm and shit?)," he expressed himself and Shinji just looked at him with a curious expression.

He took off his headphones and pushed pause on his iPod, "**私はあなたを伝えるのか分からない。私が意味する、私はあなたと私の過去についてのママとパパに言ってきました。幻想的なように聞こえると****...****ので、私の過去の、私は良いこのような状況を処理することができるよように。 **(I don't know what to tell you. I mean, I've told you and mom and dad about my past. As fantastic as it sounds and…because of my past, I'm better able to handle situations like this.)," Shinji explained.

"**棲み分け？** (Compartmentalization?)," Haruki asked, "**はい。そして、それは私私は京都で何かを覚えているときには、この一年を通してたくさん、助けて。** (Yes. And its helped me a lot throughout this year, whenever I remember something in Kyoto)," Shinji said as he sighed.

Haruki readjusted himself, "**ええ、あなたのママとパパを教えてくれ。我々はそれを聞いたとき、それは吸い込まれますが、本当に彼らに何が起こったのかを教えてくれませんでした。** (Yeah you told us about your mom and dad. It sucked when we heard it, but you haven't really told us about what really happened to them.)," he said.

Shinji looked at him and adverted his gaze a bit, "**私はあなたたちすべてをお伝えしたいと思いますが、あなたは私を信じられるかどうかは知りません。それはだ****...****それは話してもまだ痛いです。** (I want to tell you guys everything, but I don't know if you would believe me. It's…it's still too painful to talk about.)," he said sadly.

Haruki rubbed his younger brother's head a bit, "**私はすぐにすべてを伝えるためにあなたを求めていないよ。それは私の間違っているだろうが、私たちは、あなたがもう少し開放したい。あなたが過去年間行ってきたように、いつでも何でもあなたの子供時代についてアップします。**(I'm not asking you to tell everything right away. That would be wrong of me, but we do want you to open up a bit more. Just as you've been doing for the past year, whenever anything comes up about your childhood.)"

Shinji looked up at him and gave a light smile, "**春樹は感謝しています。私はそれを本当に感謝しています。私はそれがダンテと飛鳥と同じだ****...****私たちは一緒にたくさん進めてきたかなり確信しています。**(Thanks Haruki. I really appreciate it. And I'm pretty sure it's the same with Dante and Asuka…we've been through a lot together.)"

Haruki chuckled a bit, "**私は****3****つ持っているあなたと確信しています。しかし、私は男、一日一日は、言ったように。 **(I'm sure you three have. But as I've said man, day by day)," he reassured his younger brother.

Shinji took his chance, "**今、あなたは歌の歌詞を引用しています。主は私の弟の貧しい人々の魂にお慈悲を持っています。** (Now you're quoting song lyrics. Lord have mercy on my brother's poor soul.)," he teasingly taunted and Haruki gave a smirk and tackled Shinji on the bed and began to fist his hair.

"**貧しい魂私のお尻！神はあなたごめんなさいお尻を保護するために、ここではありません！** (Poor soul my ass! God isn't here to protect your sorry ass!)," Haruki laughed, as did Shinji, "OKAY! OKAY! **私は与える！私は与える！** (I GIVE! I GIVE!)"

**1:13PM**

In the lobby, most of the musicians were talking or napping away the afternoon while their parents were somewhere adjacent to them talking away and talking with Moradi about what to expect in the coming days.

Ahmed, Cecilia, and Fatma talked with Gilberto, Alberto, and Zane about that as well, "So Ahmed, are generally disgusted are you with the turn of events here," Zane asked rhetorically.

The Lebanese teen sighed, "Well, we're damn lucky nobody had bombed this hotel. And uh, I've heard houses were bombed and leveled by missile strikes from last night's airport bombing."

Cecilia closed her cellphone, "And looking at old texts while counting the minutes doesn't help much either," she sighed exasperated, "Fatma, how do you feel about this? Honestly," she turned to the Iranian girl.

Fatma looked at her, "At least I'm here with all of you," she said facing her new friends, "And my mum had said that the three of us will meet some of our friends in Damascus, Syria and from there fly back to Istanbul. We have to be careful along the way, considering jets overhead are bombing down the south and that could easily move north," she said with some worry.

"I agree. Another likely outcome is cellphone signals will get weaker and weaker, making communication with your homes more difficult," Ahmed laid out the most likely scenarios for the internationals.

"Well in any case, we're screwed until further notice and most likely, us Americans will be the last ones to leave, following the Euros and everyone else," Gilberto said as he listened to his iPod.

"Why do you say that," Cecilia asked and Alberto spoke up, "I'm pretty sure you're familiar with our president. He's not exactly the symbol of getting things done quickly if you catch our drift," he said with emphasis on getting things done rather specifically.

Ahmed, Fatma, and Cecilia looked at each other and returned their gazes on the Americans, "Oh we know. Trust us," they said in unison.

**1:19PM**

The parents were talking on their cellphones back home in their respective countries, trying to find any updated information on their end. Since the bombing of the airport, they watched the news obsessively. Al-Jazeera, BBC, Sky News, CNN, Reuters, and Telemundo; they've also searched the news' websites for any new developments...to say they haven't got much sleep would be an understatement.

Asuka's mom, Angela yawned and her fiancé Pascal rubbed her back while sitting and looking through Reuter's website. Nazeria, Fatma's mom searched through Al-Jazeera's website with the help of Ahmed's parents, Nadia and Yussef. Fernando and Mariza, Wilfredo's parents talked with Dante's parents, Carlos and Rosa, as well as Alberto's parents Soledad and Alejandro about how whether or not to allow their sons to perform in tonight's concert at the university. Worried about a missile coming down and destroying the university. Ahmed's parents overheard and reassured them that it will not happen.

Shinji's parents, Mitsuko and Takuya talked with Zane's parents, Laura and Chris and as well with Gilberto's parents Maria and Manuel about the implications of the orchestra if it continues to make international performances in the near future. In order to get their minds off of what's going on in Lebanon.

Overall, the parents including Moradi and his family talked about their experiences with their countries and their histories. Whether it involved dictatorships, unwanted wars, nostalgic moments, and their childhoods. In a weird way, it comforted them while sharing hard moments of their lives. They also compared their lives to what their children had to experience and witness. The former Children's adoptive families talked about their children's pasts, but also felt that they were hiding things from them out of fear. They knew they will share everything one day, but for the moment, after a year of seeing how good children they were, they allowed them to find their place in their new lives.

**PHILADELPHIA (Amity District), PA**

**SAM'S HOME, 6:21AM**

Sam woke up, still in a daze on what's going on in Beirut. Since her parents showed her on the news about how conflict came back to Lebanon. She knew her friends were over there and knew the former Children were possibly there as well. Since they left for their new homes last year, little contact was established between them, mostly restrained to indirect communication via the orchestra. Danny and Tucker, along with Valerie and Jazz who's on summer vacation, taking a break from university life are discussing on how to get their friends out of Lebanon. Danny kept suggesting opening a ghost portal and getting them home, but Jazz kept countering his suggestion that if he were to do that, it would only draw attention to him and will run the risk of getting himself killed.

Today, Sam searched the Internet on her laptop in the kitchen while eating cereal with soymilk. She searched the websites of CNN, The Wall Street Journal, and even an independent site called Current. Whether the news on Hezbollah, how students are in rallies for or against the group, and the bombings in southern Lebanon, she can feel that anger is returning to this country of different ethnicities and languages. As a girl raised in a Jewish family, and learning about Israel's position on Lebanon, she herself didn't know what to feel about the whole situation, whether to debate issues like the Palestinian segregation or Zionism itself, but knew that Middle Easterners in the city are extremely vocal about this; either on the streets passing out flyers or voicing their anger on Internet forums.

She also knew that American media won't show the full story about the casualties of innocent civilians, since many Americans won't feel much sympathy for a Middle Eastern nation, she checked Al-Jazeera for full coverage.

She then received a text from Wilfredo:

[Things are fine here at the hotel and tonight we'll perform for the last time here]

She read the text and before she could reply, she received another one from, this time from Zane:

[Things are good at hotel. Moradi said it would be safe to remain in the hotel]

She read it and then received another one, this time from Gilberto:

[This whole bombing thing sucks! We're stuck under house arrest]

She read this and replied back to all of them:

[I'm reading up on the news. The pics are bad to say the least. I wish I could help you guys come home quick. I'm praying and so are the others. Stay safe]

She sent the text and continued to search and watch the news until her parents and grandmother came downstairs for breakfast. Her parents also watched the news in the kitchen.

**8:34AM**

Sam headed out for a jog towards the park to meet up with Danny. Tucker said he would meet up with them later after setting up equipment to experiment later with Danny.

After ten minutes or so, she arrived at the park and met up with Danny who dressed in a white t-shirt, blue shorts and Nike sneakers while Sam dressed in a black sports shirts, New Balance sneakers and black sweat pants. The two ran around the park, both along the path or running through the park trekking over the small hills that dot the landscape.

During their jog, Danny and Sam had a small race to see who was the fastest and Danny promised he wouldn't use his abilities. Although there were moments where he tried to cheat, Sam called him out and he would make pouts so wouldn't be too mad. She would roll her eyes and just enjoyed the race. She had to admit, two years of ghost fighting did wonders for the body, especially for her boyfriend who has developed some definition in his torso and lower body. He also sported a small ponytail and that gave him an edgier look. She liked him overall…she was a teenage girl after all.

Two out of three times, she would win due to having more endurance, as opposed to Danny who loves the short bursts of energy that led him in the lead.

Sam checked her watch, "Thirty-five minutes of non-stopping jogging. Not bad," she said satisfied with the result.

Danny caught his breath, "Yeah, and as our PE teacher would say, 'Room for improvement'," he said and both chuckled, but then turned silent when Danny grasped Sam's free left hand.

"Do you think the others will be okay? I mean...this is way more risky than anything we've faced. Not only two countries are starting a war, but also our friends are there, unable to do anything," Danny said, revealing his worries and concerns.

Sam looked at his profile and turned his head so they could look at each other eye to eye, "This is different, but remember how Shinji and his two friends told us most of their pasts involving their Evangelion Units and their childhoods, they were messed up and found something to hang onto," she said and he just looked at her, finding hiding meanings.

She sighed and continued, "But I also know they're not going to let this consume them. They're going to make this work for them as best as they could. What they don't have is time. They need to come home," she finished.

Danny frustratingly sighed, "I know Sam, I know. But we already talked that me going there is risky. I'm betting everyone in Beirut are on edge and me appearing out of a ghost portal would only scare the hell out of them even more," he said.

Sam caught the double meaning in his statement. Ever since getting his ghost powers, he had to contend with self-esteem issues; namely acceptance in his family and in school.

She rubbed his back comfortingly, "We have to get going. We promised we meet Tucker and Valerie at his house to plan their trip home…or at least a welcoming party when they make it back."

Danny looked at his girlfriend for nearly a year and a half now and gave a soft smile, "Okay," he simply stated and both got up and headed for home in a restful walk, holding each other arm in arm.

**Later in the evening, across the globe…**

**BEIRUT, LEBANON**

**7:34PM**

The air was charged with the electricity from the stage lights overhead, illuminating the orchestra while they performed their final piece of baroque music for their stay in the country. While Moradi conducted his musicians, he couldn't help but feel pride in them and in what he and his colleagues have tried to instill in them the importance of acceptance, celebrating difference and revealing to them that it has been done before in the deep pasts of Islam, Christianity and Judaism.

Tonight, they performed two pieces, **Concerto para Cravo em Lá Maior (Harpsichord Concerto in A Major)**** e ****Sinfonia para cordas e baixo contínuo em Si bemol Maior (Sinfonia for strings and basso continuo in B flat Major) **by Portuguese baroque composer, **Carlos Seixas.**

The first piece in A Major was one of those pieces where Dante was allowed to shine with his virtuoso talent on the harpsichord. The second piece was a more collective piece of emerging talents on the classical music scene. Wilfredo was glad they're performing pieces by a Portuguese composer, one who had given lessons to Domenico Scarlatti, one of the most well known composers of the Baroque Period. However, the main reason he's relatively unknown was that his work was nearly entirely lost due to the Earthquake of 1755, where only three orchestral pieces and 100 keyboard sonatas survived. Any music enthusiast worth in salt, Portuguese or not would know of Carlos Seixas. The orchestra was glad for Moradi for finding obscure pieces and having them perform them.

After finishing their performance, the orchestra bowed to their enthusiastic audience and exited the stage. The university's orchestra then had their chance to shine, by performing **Violin Concerto No.1 in B flat major K.207 **by **Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart**.

**BEIRUT, LEBANON**

**TUESDAY, DAY SIX**

**LE ROYAL HOTEL, 2:34PM**

For nearly a week now, Shinji along with Asuka, Dante, Fatma, and Cecilia left Lebanon with the help of their embassies. The orchestra found out ahead of time on the Internet, the news, or simply through rumor on who was getting out. During the days when they left, the American musicians couldn't help but feel angry, angry on how they were separating again.

* * *

_Back on Saturday, when Fatma was leaving for Damascus, Syria and from there fly back to Istanbul, Dante approached her in the lobby, saying that when they both go back to their homes, they would talk again via live video chat. She agreed and he made his move to kiss her affectionately on her cheek. She was surprised at first but she then returned the gesture. Both blushed and she headed for the taxi. Both waved their goodbyes. Just hours later, Dante heard that he and his family were heading back to Argentina._

_On Sunday, it was Asuka and Shinji's turns to leave. Asuka left in the morning and both of them said their goodbyes in private, adjacent to the lobby, without their parents watching over them. Making out and whispering genuine loving words into each other's ears. Shinji left later in the afternoon with his family, not know how the others will fare in the coming days._

_Cecilia was the last to leave on Monday with her father, Jo__ã__o Oliveira. She said her goodbyes to the boys. Alberto and Wilfredo gave her long, strong hugs; they were fond of the girl and she too for them. Wilfredo at one moment kissed her forehead while everyone else was talking, giving them their semi-private moment. Cecilia did have a crush on Wilfredo, thought of him as cute, but didn't know if there was anything else to build upon. It was the same with Wilfredo, didn't know if this was for real or it was only brought on because she only spoke to them via video chat. After their moment together, she left the hotel._

* * *

Wilfredo watched a movie on his portable DVD player, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind as he sat at the lounge next to the pool. He took glances at his friends playing a mock game of water polo in the pool. As he watched Kirsten Dunst and Marc Ruffalo waking up from a drunken, stoned state from their evening tryst, he took off his headphones and got up to stretch up his arms. He looked out at the pool and noticed Zane coming towards him.

"Hey Wil. Want to come in? The water's good today," he said, "The water's always good Zane. And no thanks, just want to rest under the shade today," Wilfredo said relaxingly.

Zane looked at the portable DVD player, "What are you watching," he asked and looked down at the screen, "Oh. You're watching the only film Jim Carrey's not funny," he said with mirth on his face.

Wilfredo smiled, "I know, it's great. Jim's got some indie cred," he said, stifling a laugh and sat back down.

Zane joined him by pulling up a chair and sitting down, "So…when do you think we'll be able to go home," he asked and upon hearing Wilfredo sighing, he could tell he was as fed up with this ordeal as anyone else in the hotel.

"Sorry Zane, but right now, I'm trying not to think about the cluster fuck of a war going on in this country," he paused the film and resumed talking, "It's the same with our parents."

Zane looked at him, "Right, sorry. I didn't mean to ask the obviously difficult question, but you know…I wish the news showed more of whether or not the US will help us as they should," he said with heaviness in his voice.

Wilfredo noticed his friend's disappointment in the US and in the world at large. He couldn't blame him and truth be told, he was also pissed off, but mostly disappointed.

He chuckled a bit, but it was sardonic at best, "So this is what it means to grow up. Seeing how the world really is, a screwed up place to live in," he said with dripping, depressing sarcasm.

Zane sat quietly for a moment, "Listen…we should talk more about this later," he got up, "I'll be in the pool Wil," he said and headed back outside. Wilfredo watched Zane heading for the pool and sighed. He resumed to watching the film.

**CATALONIA REGION, SPAIN**

**1:41PM**

Miles from Barcelona, the Campa boy for over a year now has wandered the Iberian Peninsula. From Portugal he headed up north for the Galician region for a time until he began heading south for the Castille Region, close to Madrid. For months he stole bits of money so he could navigate without using his abilities too much. He then commandeered a horse and rode it until he arrived in the Catalonia Region of Spain. He kept the horse, but he didn't arrive to Barcelona, he wasn't ready to face the city yet. So instead, he kept to the countryside, communing with the natural surroundings. He found himself a hunting dog and a rifle he acquired from an old man too frail to continue the tradition. He recognized the old man as one of his childhood friends. He didn't believe him at first, simply because of his fading memory, but as he looked closer at Campa's face, he was surprised, shocked, happy, and sad. Sad on how Campa stayed youthful while he grew old. Remembering Campa's father who hunted for a living, he offered his hunting dog.

He stayed within close proximity of his old friend and brought him the occasional small bird and rabbits. He quickly bonded with the dog and horse, they reminded him of his father's. He also met an old woman who apparently was around his age when he died. They talk from time to time and she would reminisce about a young boy who she had befriended and tried to help out. But she would cry when she remembered him. He wanted to know who he was, but on a deep visceral level, he knew whom she was talking about. Both would look at each other and felt a deep connection that spanned decades.

Today, he sat under the shade of an old oak tree to shield himself from the harsh summer sun. His hunting dog is asleep and the horse was eating some wild grasses nearby. Letting the summer breeze come in from the interior, he could tell something as amiss. He then walked down the path to find a payphone near the main road. He dialed the number to call Pereira and Velasquez in Lisbon. He asked if their grandson was all right and when he heard them speak, he noticed their distressed voices. They told him Wilfredo was stuck in Beirut, Lebanon during the commencing of conflict that's beginning to engulf the country. Campa was shocked to no end, and even though he could go there and watch over Wilfredo, he decided to sit on the sidelines.

"**Ell té els seus amics allà, així com de la seva família.** (He has his friends there as well as his family.)," he muttered to himself and hung up the phone when he finished. He walked back to his dog and horse. He grabbed one of the straps and walked with his horse and his dog walking beside him. They made their way back to his old friend's home, "**Ell estarà bé.** (He'll be alright.)"

**BEIRUT, LEBANON**

**AHMED'S HOME, 3:32PM**

Ahmed went up to his bedroom and dropped off his violin from his music lesson with his long time tutor from the university. But today he couldn't concentrate on his lessons. He collapsed on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, trying to sort out his thoughts. Then his cellphone sounded with an incoming text…

[Bored out of my skull! How are you?]

It was a text from Zane and he smiled a bit, and to waste some time, he started texting back…

[Just got out of violin practice. Bored too]

He sent it and waited a few moments for a response. Sure enough he got one…

[Well, most of our friends are gone and it's just us now]

Ahmed read it twice and knew what Zane was talking about…

[You guys will go home soon. I apologize for my country]

Ahmed sent his text and expected the reply to be full of 'yeah whatever'. But instead he got a more real response…

[It's okay. And you don't have to apologize, blame the higher ups]

Ahmed read it and smiled, knowing it was the truth and texted back…

[I agree and…thanks]

He sent the text. Then another response came, slower now due to weak cellphone signal…

[No problem. My friends and I are going to laze around in our rooms. Later]

Ahmed read the text and sent back a [Later]…

He closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. He looked up at the ceiling for a while longer until he got up, put a CD in his stereo and picked a book to read. As the music began playing, he read, while he took glances at his Quran on his bookcase and prayer rug, rolled up on the floor next to the door.

"**وأعتقد أن الناس في الغرب يعتقدون انها حرب بين الحضارات. ما حمولة من ثيران. انها اكثر من تضارب في المصالح على الموارد والمواقف السياسية. على الأقل هذا ما الدي يقول لي عندما يحصل المنزل من الجامعة**. (To think people in the West believe this is a war between civilizations. What a load of bullocks. It's more of a conflict of interests over resources and political positions. At least that's what dad tells me when he gets home from the university)," he muttered and he put down his book momentarily and looked how the light illuminated the room.

"**أنا أشعر بالقلق فقط كيف أصدقائي الجديدة سوف تصل إلى المنزل. وإذا كان الحمل الطائرات ستقصف هذا بيت واحد من هذه الأيا**م. (I'm only worried how my new friends will get home. And if the jets overhead will bomb this house one of these days),"he said quietly to himself about the worst possible scenarios, but he put them away as he began reading again.

**PHILADELPHIA (Amity District), PA**

**TUCKER'S HOME, 8:37 AM**

Tucker sat in front of his computer looking up on LES MUSICIENS' website, reading any new updates if there were any. On Zane's blog, it said they were still stuck in Beirut while their international friends have already returned home. This surprised him, thinking the US should've done something by now. A part of him wanted to rally in the streets, demanding his friends to come home ASAP, but in reality, easier said than done. If there was a ship coming to Beirut to help the Americans out, they could still be days away in the Mediterranean.

Danny had thought over his plan of bringing them back via a ghost portal, but that would be more risky than helpful, so regrettably the idea was scrapped. They also thought of using their Ghost Cruiser vehicle to fly over and bring them home. However, the problem with that idea was that since room in the cruiser was limited to only three people at a time, they would have to make numerous trips back and forth across the Atlantic and the Mediterranean. So the idea was scrapped.

Tucker read the other musicians' blogs and they all said the same thing. He also read the blogs of the former Children, as well as the new members, Cecilia, Fatma, and Ahmed; all three expressing concern for their stranded American colleagues/friends. He read them and then exited the site, closed the other windows linking him to various news sites and turned off the computer.

He sat for a while and decided to head downstairs. He noticed his parents were gone for the morning and decided to watch some TV in the living room. While flipping through the channels, he also watched some news channels if there was any update on Lebanon. Either the news was the same, or it was worse…this didn't help his anxiety either.

**BEIRUT, LEBANON**

**WEDNESDAY, DAY SEVEN**

**LE ROYAL HOTEL, 2:34AM**

Wilfredo woke up and looked at his parents' bed beside him. He headed for the restroom to take a leak. After finishing up, he noticed Danny of all people, in his ghost form sitting on one of the armchairs. The two looked at each other and he gestured for the two of them to head for the hallway to talk in private. Wilfredo grabbed his hotel key and the two stepped out of the room.

"I expected Campa to drop by one of these days. But its you instead," Wilfredo said tiredly, and the hallway lights didn't help matters.

Danny gave a look, "Well excuse me for worrying about you guys," he said exhaustedly too.

Wilfredo looked at him, "Right sorry," he apologized, "So why are you here," he couldn't help but ask.

Danny coughed to clear his throat, "I came to see if you guys are alright. And, judging from what I looked at while I flew in your rooms, looking pretty good," he said.

Wilfredo nodded, "Right…so why are really here," he asked again and Danny could tell he was tired and frustrated with the situation.

Danny took a deep breath to calmly explain his presence, "The reason I'm here is that we're running out of options to safely get you guys home. We thought of getting you guys home via a ghost portal, but that will raise only suspicion. We also thought of using the Ghost Cruiser, but the multiple back and forth trips would take too much time. So we want to know what are you guys doing to get home."

Wilfredo looked at him and momentarily averted his gaze until he regained focus again, "Well, nothing much. We talked with the US Embassy and they said that a ship would come in a few days to a week. Professor Moradi also has a colleague, who has a friend who is making sure we're safe with daily visits and emergency exercises," he gulped and continued, "And he says that he'll try to get us through the gates when the US envoy comes to help us," he finished.

Danny was surprised by the extent of their situation, but he kept his cool, "So everything's under control then," he said and Wilfredo nodded, "Yeah pretty much," then the two remained silent for a moment.

Wilfredo yawned, "Anyway, I'm heading for bed. And…tell the others to not worry too much," he said tiredly. Danny nodded, but couldn't help but worry for his friends, despite their differences.

Danny opened a ghost portal, "I'll see you guys soon," he vanished into the portal and it closed. Wilfredo looked and resumed to open the door. Once inside, he collapsed on the bed, letting the darkness and the silence of the night and the life of the outside city envelop him.

**8:23AM**

Wilfredo got out of the bathroom, dressed in clean clothes pool worthy clothes and ready to meet his friends. But his mom and dad stopped him for a minute.

"**Filho, falaste com o Danny a noite passada?** (Son, have you talked with Danny last night?)," Fernando asked and Wilfredo turned around, "**Sim, falei. Ele, uh... veio através de um portal e falou comigo durante um bocado.** (Yeah I have. He uh…came through a ghost portal and talked with me for a bit.)," he explained himself.

"**Onde é que vocês falaram?** (Where did you talk exactly?)," Mariza asked now curious, "**Nós falamos no corredor. Como vocês estavam a dormir, eu não queria fazer muito barulho.** (We talked in the hallway. Since you two were sleeping, I didn't want to make too much noise.)," Wilfredo said, hoping they would be satisfied.

Fernando looked at him, "**E podes nos dizer sobre o que é que vocês falaram.**(What did you guys talk about if you don't mind me asking.)," he asked and Wilfredo sighed, "**Nós falamos acerca de como ele e os amigos estão preocupados e tentaram pensar em algumas maneiras de irmos para casa em segurança. Ele também explicou que essas ideas seriam ou demasiado arriscadas ou levariam muito tempo.** (We talked about how he and his friends are worried and tried to think up some ways to get all of us home safely. But he explained that those ideas would've either been too risky or too time consuming.)," he explained.

Mariza then asked the next question, "**E disseste como é que vamos para casa? Só para ele não ficar muito preocupado, Wilfredo. Ele é um bom rapaz, afinal.** (And did you tell him how we are going to go home? So he wouldn't be too worried Wilfredo. He's a good boy after all.)," she said and Wilfredo breathed out through his nose. Danny has gotten more attention over the past year.

"**Sim, contei-lhe. Ele pareceu satisfeito, mas eu sei que ele estava a disfarçar.** (Yeah I told him. He left somewhat satisfied, but I know he's not.)," Wilfredo said and quickly changed the subject, "**Olhem, eu vou lá para baixo ter com os meus amigos. O Ahmed e os pais dele vão visitar-nos hoje.** (Listen I'm going to go downstairs to meet up with my friends. Ahmed and his parents are coming for a visit.)," he said.

His mom and dad looked at each and then returned their gazes on him, "**Ok, toma cuidado, como o costume. E lembra-te de espalhar bem o protector solar.**(Okay, just be careful as always. And remember to put your sunscreen evenly.)," Mariza said motherly.

"**E lembra-te de nos ligar se alguma coisa acontecer.** (And remember to call us if anything comes up.)," Fernando said, "**Nós vamos descer para conhecer os pais dele daqui a pouco. Podes dizer-lhes isso?** (We'll come down to meet his parents shortly. Will you tell them that)," he added.

"**Claro.** (Sure no problem)," Wilfredo grabbed his stuff for the pool and headed out the door. Meanwhile his parents were finishing up with preparing to head downstairs.

"**Porque é que não lhe disseste que sentiste o Danny na noite passada?** (Why haven't you told him that you sensed Danny last night?)," Mariza asked, "**Bem, ele não precisa que eu lhe diga. Ele sabe que eu consigo sentir anomalias espectrais e aurais, por isso as minhas explicações iam ser redundantes.**(Well its because he doesn't need me to. He knows I can sense spectral and aural anomalies, so my explanation would have been redundant)," Fernando explained as he put on his Portuguese cologne.

Mariza brushed her hair, "**Parece que sim. Mas de qualquer forma, eu devia saber isto. Estou casada contigo, afinal de contas.** (I suppose. But then again, I should know this. I am married to you after all.)," she said and then felt arms around her torso.

"**Precisas que eu te lembre disso?** (Do you need a reminder?)," he huskily teased and she giggled, "**Talvez** (Perhaps)," she said coyly with half-lidded eyes and both of them kissed lovingly.

**In the hallway**

Wilfredo headed down the hallway and stood in front of the elevator. His thoughts were swarming around with no end in sight and hoped the pool will calm him down today. When the doors opened he stepped inside and pushed for the floor where the pool was located. He looked at himself in the mirrors inside as the door behind him closed and felt the elevator going down towards the pool.

* * *

**Thus ends another chapter. To be honest here, these first three chapters are extremely difficult to write. One, I have to maintain a strict balance between making an homage to one of my favorite episodes of No Reservations and make it completely original for the sake of the story. Second, I was preoccupied with writing a small side crossover story for this saga. Might as well get it done ahead of time.**

**The two pieces of baroque music by Carlos Seixas can be found on YouTube, performed by the Norwegian Baroque Orchestra. Also for the Mozart piece, I recommend listening to the rendition done by Europa Galante with Fabio Biondi.**

**Read, review, critique, and I'll see all of you in the next chapter. I would also like to thank HolyDragoon for his help with the Portuguese dialogue.**


	3. July 2006, part three

**LES MUSICIENS**

**2006**

**A CROSSOVER STORY**

**This chapter is about the musicians with their families finally leaving the country after ten days in the Le Royal Hotel. According to the episode of No Reservation, Anthony Bourdain did stay for the part of nine to ten days in Beirut while waiting for help to arrive. **

**This chapter was inspired by the piece "Deportac****í****on/Iguazu" both composed by Gustavo Santaolalla and on the soundtrack for the film BABEL.**

**Stripped down to just showing the orchestra during their trip back home and encountering their friends and family in Philadelphia, with minimal portrayals of the other international characters.**

**CHAPTER THREE**

**THE SEA **

**SATURDAY, 1:23PM**

The musicians sat in the L.C.U. tightly with the other Americans lucky enough to escape the conflict of Lebanon. They brought their instruments along, and Alberto had trouble bringing aboard his theorbo due to the low hanging netting of the sea worthy craft. They were out to sea enough so they could see the Beirut in its entirety and caught the sight of the Le Royal Hotel in the distance.

"What a way to leave Beirut huh," Zane casually said, but his friends said nothing. They were lost in their thoughts, but no doubt, thought of the same thing, but relieved to know they were going home soon.

The waves churned and they held onto their luggage for support. In the process of getting out, they lost a few articles of clothing, sheets of music, a camera, and even some swimming goggles. But in retrospect, they were worthless when the musicians along with their families looked onto the other passengers, thinking about what and who have they lost. What were they leaving behind? And for the teenage musicians, was Ahmed going to be all right in Beirut?

**JULY 2006, DAY TEN**

**USS NASHVILLE, 1:37PM**

The L.C.U. docked with the aircraft carrier, USS Nashville a few miles out at sea. The ramp leveled with the hanger deck below and slowly the people got on the ship with whatever they had. The teenagers looked up at the deck above and could see soldiers with assault rifles and other weaponry, ready for the worst-case scenario. The people then heard a hearing from one of the generals over a megaphone, stating that they were welcome onboard the carrier and, were also told the crew were off the clock. Many were escorted to the flight deck where makeshift beds and tents were set up for the new passengers.

The musicians took some available beds while their parents took an available tent. The teenagers were mentally and emotionally exhausted, from anxiety and from the uncertainty in a situation that put them in the balcony seats and watched the war slowly consume the country. They were too tired to even speak, only to check their cellphones if they had any missed calls or texts ready to be answered.

Wilfredo texted Sam…

[Okay, now we're now on an aircraft carrier heading for Cyprus]

While it was being sent he waited a minute for reply and soon enough he got one…

[That's great! That means you guys will be home in a couple of days]

Wilfredo read it and replied back…

[Yeah, more days of waiting patiently. But at least we got a ride home]

He sent his reply and waited for a response from Sam and a few moments later…

[Yeah, good thing! We'll be waiting for you guys! Hurry home!]

Wilfredo read it and sent a reply [We will. Later.]

He closed his phone and let the sea breeze envelop his face, head, hair and body, while watching other people set up, lye down, and talking to random soldiers on deck. He also noticed his parents talking with his friends' parents about their good turn of fortune. However in his mind, there was a slight bitter taste for this whole venture in Lebanon that now has to end, being taken home on an aircraft carrier. His family didn't have a good opinion on the military since the invasion of Iraq back in 2003, but today, it was best to bury those preconceptions.

As he looked on, he didn't notice a young navy man of about 19 approaching him, "Hi there," he said cheerily and Wilfredo looked at him, "Hi," he greeted back exhaustedly.

"The name's Michael Johnston," Michael greeted, "Yeah I can see that on your name tag," Wilfredo attempted at breaking the ice, even though he wasn't really into making small talk, "I'm Wilfredo Pereira by the way," he greeted back.

"Latino," Michael asked, "No, I'm Portuguese American," Wilfredo explained, "Wow. Never seen much of that from where I'm from," Michael said abashedly from his own innocent ignorance.

"Where are you from," Wilfredo asked Michael who knelt down to level with him, "I'm from Charleston, South Carolina," he said, "I'm from Philadelphia. But I was born and raised in New York," Wilfredo said.

"Wow! New York? I've always wanted to go," Michael said smiling and Wilfredo sighed, "Yeah I miss it sometimes," he said and he looked at his friends.

"My friends are over there setting up to just fall asleep," Wilfredo said while looking at their direction and Michael turned his head to notice, "I saw you guys with instrument cases while boarding the ship. Are you guys in a band or something," Michael asked.

Wilfredo nodded a no, "We're an orchestra, but most of the other members are on the other side of the ship deck…and some of them are from different countries so they got out earlier in the week," he said.

Michael nodded in understanding and asked an unexpected question, "How was Beirut before the bombing started?"

Wilfredo looked at him somewhat surprised and formed a small grin on his face, "It was fantastic. A Paris of the Mediterranean as said from our music professor and…we made new friends over there. Very smart, friendly, hospitable, and uh…an overall kickass time," he said with restrained excitement at the memories of Beirut.

Michael looked at him. For months and years, he came from an area of the country where anything that looked Middle Eastern was viewed as dangerous. But the mentality was more built on fear than actual hatred, due to only hearing about this part of the world from the mainstream media. But hearing this from Wilfredo, seeing his nostalgic expression, he knew better now.

"Glad to hear it. Listen I've got to go and check on the other passengers. I'll see you later," he got up and left, "Later," Wilfredo called out and lied down on his stretcher like bed. The breeze of the sea was refreshing and knew that once night fell, the sea will turn cold.

**MESS HALL, 8:45PM**

Wilfredo was with his friends eating what was available, macaroni and cheese and tuna noodle casserole. Usually, aside from macaroni and cheese, they wouldn't ever dare eat tuna noodle casserole, but under current circumstances, they couldn't complain. In fact, it was comforting to say the least…

"It's weird you know," Zane said as he finished his plate of food, "What's weird," Gilberto asked, putting his dirtied napkin on this plate.

Zane sighed, "That we're going home in an aircraft carrier and we're being really chilled about it," he said and Wilfredo spoke up, "It's because we're numb. Numb to the whole situation, whereas our parents are worried to no end," he said as he took a sip of his bottled water.

Gilberto finished his water, "It's more than that. I'm guessing it's because of what we see with Danny and his friends back in Philadelphia, things like this tend to be normal for us," he said.

However, Alberto quickly disagreed, "Hell no! It's because we're out of depth here. If it were a country in Europe or even in Latin America, we wouldn't feel this way," he provided his own point of view.

Wilfredo eyed him suspiciously, "If you're going to make this situation to a comparison to an overly, action packed B film from Hollywood," he said with toned down sarcasm.

Alberto nodded a no, "No, more like…I don't know. It's different and similar from what we went through. That's all," he said, not knowing if he made sense or not.

His friends thought it over for a moment and on a small level, they understood what he meant, "You mean the shit we went through when we were little. Right," Wilfredo asked and Alberto nodded.

Zane and Wilfredo looked at each other, remembering a friend of theirs who was killed in a gang-related shooting back in Brooklyn and Gilberto remembered living in the ghetto when it was actually dangerous. Alberto remembered the images on the news whenever his parents wanted to know what was going on in Colombia back in the days of the drug-fueled civil war.

Zane then spoke up, "But you know, with what we've seen in Beirut and making friends with Ahmed, Fatma and Cecilia. I don't think…forget it," he abruptly stopped.

But his friends pushed him to continue, "Come on you can tell us," Gilberto said, "Yeah. Don't keep us waiting," Alberto said and Zane looked at Wilfredo who just said, "Majority rules here dude."

Zane sighed and expressed his thoughts, "I don't think just being part of an orchestra is going to be enough from what we saw. The jets, the bombing, the people scared and worried, and not knowing how to react in situations like this," he stated. His friends were silent.

**FLIGHT DECK, 10:34PM**

More tents were set up for family units on the flight deck, each one can hold up to five people. The lights were set to go off in five minutes and the wind ruffled the tents as it sailed on the dark sea.

When the lights went out, Wilfredo stayed awake as his parents slept. He got up exited the tent to walk on the deck. The lights were out, except for the ones on the bridge, seeing the black outlines of the soldiers, guarding the ship and watching for rogue ships and/or airplanes. He knew they were probably using night vision goggles, but didn't care. He walked around a bit, noticing the clear night sky above, riddled with stars and a few planets he could identify. The night ocean air caressed his skin; all he wore were his black boxers and a white t-shirt. Walking around in the night, in basic clothing and in sandals gave him a thrill, but it didn't erase the ennui, nor did it erase his mild depression.

"I wonder what the others are doing right now. How are Shinji and his friends? Or Danny," he muttered quietly and looked up at the night sky. He recalled one time around the same time, in his childhood when he first visited Lisbon and saw his grandmother sitting near the window of their home, overlooking the vista of the city. She muttered how she was sad, sad about the inevitability of leaving this world, leaving behind its ugliness and its beauty.

Wilfredo never thought about death often, even when he went into a trance back in December of 2004, where he was nearly brought to his death. He remembered the other side, a world of soft light and sound. Encountering a man who had a connection to the Campa boy and recalling a conversation to his grandfather who told him about the said world just one month earlier.

The ocean wind got colder and he decided to head back into the tent, but before he did, he swore he caught a glimpse of a black butterfly, fluttering around in the night, beside one of his friend's tents. He wanted to think Campa was watching over him, but know he had his own problems to care of; he shrugged it off as an optical illusion. He also chuckled, remembering how he used to dream of black butterflies back when he first met Campa.

Then a thought came to him, after all of this time to think about it he felt like an idiot, "I wonder if those butterflies I dreamt about were in fact a physical manifestation of the connection we have," he muttered and then yawned, "I'll think about it later. I'm too fucking tired to think," he said quietly and headed back inside the tent.

**SUNDAY, 3:32PM, DAY ELEVEN**

**USS NASHVILLE ARRIVING IN CYPRUS**

They docked just off the shore of the Dhekelia UK Base Area and the British have allowed the Americans to unload the rescued passengers to head for shore. Once there, the base arranged buses to transport the people to the Larnaca International Airport. Most of the people were taking flights aboard British Airways, but since its destination was Heathrow Airport in London, their tickets were predominantly transfers.

**9:50PM**

**LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM**

Landing in Heathrow Airport after a nearly 5 and a half hour flight, everyone coming in from Lebanon was fatigued to no end. No more so than the musicians, their parents and Moradi with his wife and daughter. Since they had transfers, their next flight was scheduled to leave in about two hours, just past midnight. Waiting in the terminal where their American Airlines flight was docked, getting ready for its journey to Philadelphia, the Americans were tired, impatient, and most of all hungry.

Zane and his friends talked for a bit before they dozed off next to their parents, who also were on the verge of falling asleep. Moradi texted his colleagues in Philadelphia that they were coming home in a couple of hours and telling them in brief text about their emotional states.

Two hours later then their flight was called, they groggily got up and headed for their terminal. American Airlines departure from London to Philadelphia and after an additional twenty minutes the plane rolled down the runway and started to pick up speed and eventually took off. Everyone was asleep, but only awakened when complimentary drinks were served.

**PHILADELPHIA, UNITED STATES**

**MONDAY, 5:45AM**

Arriving at the Philadelphia International Airport, the orchestra was beyond exhausted and many of them had their eyes closed from their two flights. Their parents weren't faring well either, even Moradi with his family were on the brink of collapsing in the airport. But they dragged themselves to customs, getting their passports stamped and getting the obligatory welcome back to the United States greeting, meaning lack of genuine enthusiasm and more suspicious of foreigners these days. They even gave Moradi more attention and checked him along with his wife and daughter a bit longer than the others, which made the teenagers and their parents a bit cross.

After everything was cleared, with their luggage in tow, they called for five mini-van taxis to take them back to their homes. Their instruments were taking in a separate van and Moradi had them taken to his home for the time being.

It was around 6:30am when Wilfredo and his family were back home at their apartment building. The trip to their home on the seventh floor was excruciating, their legs wobbled and ached and their bodies were just drained. Once they entered their home, his parents headed for their bedroom and collapsed onto their bed. Wilfredo headed for his room and did the same, but noticed something was a bit off…he sensed a presence in his room and knew who it was.

"Danny, I'm glad you're here and I don't know how you found out we would arrive today, but can you go home please," Wilfredo's muffled voice resonated through his pillow; he didn't care if he got drool on it, he just wanted sleep, "I need sleep. Badly."

Danny became visible and looked down on him, "Right. I'll go," but before he flew out of his room he spoke up again, "I'm glad you guys came home safely," and Wilfredo responded back, "Likewise."

Danny flew out and headed back to his place where Sam and Tucker spent the night when they heard from Wilfredo and the others that they'll be heading home. He took a brief backwards glance at Wil's apartment and continued to fly back home.

Wilfredo turned onto his side and slept in the fetal position.

**DANNY'S HOME**

**7:15AM**

Danny, Sam, and Tucker sat at the table eating cereal (Sam took hers with almond milk) and learned that Danny had went to Wilfredo's apartment and on that moment saw Wilfredo entering his room and collapsing onto his bed, even exchanging a few words.

Tucker exhaled with relief, "I'm glad they're back! Almost 12 days, plus their week prior to the shit that went down over there…I'm pretty sure they didn't see that coming," he said and continued eating.

Danny finished his bowl, "Agreed. But you know, I'm thinking they need a few days to de-stress from what happened before they could tell what exactly happened over there," he said and then caught Sam looking at him.

"They posted some video journal entries on their website during their stay over there and when they were on the USS Nashville," she said and took out her laptop and placed it on the table. They waited for a few moments for it to turn on and once it did, she logged in on the orchestra's website and clicked on the video section. Alongside their orchestral performances, there were a few video entries from other orchestra members, including two videos from Gilberto and Alberto.

She clicked on Gilberto's video, only seven minutes when they were still in Beirut on Day 8:

_I don't know what to say…I mean. Look at us, sitting in a hotel, playing in the pool, tanning and watching a war going on in the country…if there's a single metaphor to describe us…it wouldn't be a flattering one I can tell you. (He chuckled to relieve his nerves a bit)_

She stopped the video and clicked on Alberto's video, also from Day 8, in the night in his room:

_I don't know when we're getting out, in case our few fans out there are wondering. (He chuckled a bit) It's been eight days already and I don't think we'll be getting out for another five days I think and…uh, to be honest, I've been thinking whether or not a bomb is just going to kill us tonight, but you know…whenever you think about these sort of things, all you have to do to pass the time is head for the pool, listen to rumors and watch the news. Even if the news sucks for 99% of the time_

She stopped the video and clicked on a recent one when they were in Heathrow Airport in London, this time from Zane:

_Still waiting for our plane to arrive and uh…we're just out of it. Hours from Lebanon now, hours from Cyprus and now in Europe…the UK I mean. And uh…to be honest here, we're all worried about our new friends and members, Fatma and Ahmed who have to live in a region of the world that's increasingly criticized by the US and others for what's going on. I mean, why the hell are some people idiots! Sorry people, but this whole thing with Lebanon and Israel…totally messed up_

She stopped the video and returned to the website's homepage, "So you can see, they are mighty pissed off. Pissed off that they couldn't do anything but watch the city burn down the south…I don't think any of us would've been so calm as they were," she said and this got the guys' attention.

"How can you say that," Danny asked and Sam wasted no moment to respond, "Because most of us usually find the problem and get it fixed. Or at least fight some ghosts so things can get back to normal. But with this, things aren't so easy and you have differing opinions on who's right and who's wrong. Things now aren't so black and white anymore," she finished.

Danny and Tucker looked at her without word to say. They knew she was right and arguing against her on this issue will equate to a brutal rant from her and wouldn't stop until she caught her breath.

Danny coughed a bit to clear his throat, "You're right we wouldn't have, but don't start having a lower opinion on what we do for a living now with the ghost fighting and all. They have their reality and we have ours," he said in a harder tone than what he meant.

Sam looked at him with a hardened expression, "You're right Danny. But don't forget, our realities are becoming increasingly blurred nowadays! Or have you forgotten about the former EVA pilots? And since this whole Lebanon thing started, I've been…" she stopped herself from finishing and stepped out of the kitchen and headed for the front door.

Danny got up and followed her, despite Tucker's protests on giving her space. He stopped at the front door and took in some breaths before heading out to follow her, but when he opened to door he found her on the steps of his home. She looked out at the street and watched some cars passing by and watched people walking with their kids.

Danny sat down beside her and she exhaled as she stretched out her legs, "Since the conflict in Lebanon started, I've been chatting with people on both sides. Whether or not the bombing's justified for the actions of an extremist group. Not easy being a Jewish girl agreeing that the actions by the Israelis have been questionable I can tell you that…really hard when some people called me a Zionist or even a Jewish whore from someone online. But I don't care…what I was trying to say inside is that…things are changing now and we can't keep going on with what we've been doing for nearly two years now," she said with melancholy in her voice.

Danny sat quietly next to her and grasped her hand on the hard cement, clenching it protectively, "You know Sam…with the things they are now and what we're becoming because of those changes…I'm pretty sure the others are thinking the same thing," he said and Sam nodded silently in agreement.

The two headed back inside and resumed to join Tucker and turned on the TV in the living room, to get their minds off of the heavy reality for a while.

**WILFREDO'S HOME**

**10:13AM**

His parents went with his sister Sofia for one of the available farmer's markets in the city. He stayed behind, not really feeling like heading out to do anything and with the increasing heat of the day, his family apartment was his personal oasis for the time being. He had his music playing loudly in the apartment, music by "Massive Attack" and their album "Mezzanine". To kill off residual boredom he swept the floor and wiped the dust off of some furniture.

During his mini cleaning spree, he felt an old presence and turned around. He noticed a black butterfly accompanied by a white butterfly. He put down the rag and walked down the hallway and standing in front of his room to encounter the Campa boy. A year of not seeing him made him a bit paranoid whenever he sensed something around him. When he opened the door, he noticed nothing, except for the same two butterflies that were in the living room were now in his room.

"It's been so long since I sensed an energy that didn't belong to Danny or Campa. I wonder who passed while we were away. And I also wonder…do I tell my parents or has dad already sensed them," he said quietly to himself, forgetting about the music still playing.

He watched the butterflies flying around his room, landing a few times on various objects until they flew passed him and headed for the open living room window. The two energy sources flew through the window and Wilfredo opened it so he could see in which direction they were headed. They headed south and disappeared into the ether. Wilfredo sighed, turned around to see the living room in the stages of getting cleaned and leaned back against the windowsill in his blue shorts and white t-shirt. He felt a cool summer breeze on the cusp of his neck and relished its soothing nature, but then thoughts on Campa returned.

'_I wonder how he is nowadays. With his situation partially resolved, I suspected he would contact me often so we can come up with a plan and put this behind us…I guess its too much to ask for,' _he turned to the phone beside him, _'Should I call him? Maybe…no I should, despite our distance,' _he made up his mind and picked up the phone.

He dialed the number and waited for the other end to respond. After a few rings someone answered, "Mariana! How are you," he greeted his aunt Mariana Tavares who now lives in Texas with her husband Richard Clarkson, "I'm fine thank you. Listen, may I speak with Ernesto," he asked and she told him to wait a moment.

After a few seconds, a young boy's voice sounded on the other end, "Hi Wil," and Wilfredo was glad, "Hi Ernie…what's up?"

He told him about certain things that have happened to him over the past year, but left out anything involving Danny and Campa; as well as the former Children. He didn't want him to worry or asking too many question, but knew in the back of his mind that not telling him will come back to haunt him one day. He had told him about his near death trance just after Christmas in 2004, but he and his cousin shared moments about their abilities and their limits. Then came to realization of his aunt and uncle in Texas, they're going to find out about their excursion in Lebanon from his parents. He wasn't going to be too worried about that, things happen and they would understand, but his cousin he wasn't so sure until…

"Hey! Before I forget, how did your trip to Lebanon go? Aside from the war my mom and dad have been watching for the past week or so," Ernesto asked and Wilfredo had no choice but to tell him.

"Well, at first it didn't start out with bombing. More like shooting from an extremist group in Lebanon and we saw them in their cars as they announced in killing six Israeli soldiers and kidnapping two," he started and continued to give brief descriptions on the hotel, their new friend Ahmed and their ten day house arrest at the Le Royal.

After a few minutes, Ernesto said goodbye and then Wilfredo's aunt was on the phone again, "**Wilfredo, os teus pais estão em casa?** (Wilfredo, are your parents home?)," she asked, "**Não, mas eles devem chegar daqui a pouco. Eles só foram ao mercado para ir buscar qualquer coisa para comer.** (No, but they'll be home in a few minutes. They just went to the market to get some food.)," Wilfredo explained.

His aunt sighed, "**Tudo bem, então. Acerca daquilo do Líbano. Nós estávamos mesmo preocupados acerca da vossa visita. Eu sei que fazes parte de uma orquestra e o vosso professor levou-vos a todos lá. Eu só queria que nenhum de vocês tivesse de assistir ao que se passou.**(That's good and about Lebanon. We were really worried about you three heading over there. I know you're part of an orchestra now and your professor has taken you lot there. I just wish none of you had to witness it.)," she said and Wilfredo nodded on his end.

He then spoke up, "**Eu sei... Eu queria que algumas coisas não tivessem de acontecer mas elas acontecem na mesma. Não interessa o que queremos ou o que dizemos.** (I know…I wish certain things didn't have to happen but they do anyway. Regardless of what we want or what we say.)," he said with a hint of anger and his aunt caught it.

"**Eu sei. Eu sei... algumas coisas nós temos de aceitar e há coisas que temos de deixar para trás, entendes?** (I know. I know…some things we have to accept and there are things we have to let go of. Do you understand?)," she asked and Wilfredo was silent for a moment and then responded, "Yeah…I do. Thanks," his voice softened now.

"You're welcome. I'll talk to your parents later, okay? Take care Wilfredo," she said, "Thank you. Bye," he responded and the line went dead and he hung up.

He put the phone down and stretched up his arms, readying himself for another round of cleaning up.

**ZANE'S HOME**

**10:29AM**

Zane stared at his laptop with the orchestra's website on and seeing his profile and his friends' profiles with their individual videos posted, talking about their thoughts relating to the Lebanon experience. Since he was in charge of the website, he was conflicted whether or not to leave the videos as they are or to delete them. He didn't want any backlash from their opinions.

His cellphone rang and answered it, "Hello," he responded and it was Alberto on the other end, "Hey man. Seeing our videos on our website," he asked.

Zane's eyes widened slightly, "How do you know I'm watching them," he asked and Alberto answered with a chuckle, "Come on. Did you really think we'd just sit around and do nothing? Besides, Gilberto is watching them as well."

Zane listened, "And do you think Wil is watching them too," he asked and got a laugh in response, "You kidding? He's probably dead in bed as we speak! He'll check them later tonight. Or tomorrow if he wants," he responded.

Zane laughed a bit, "Yeah you're probably right…we did good on our performances," he commented and Alberto agreed, "Good nothing! We were fantastic," he loudly exclaimed and continued, "And not to sound too cocky, but we could get famous one day!"

Zane thought about it and disagreed, "I don't think so. Not with what we witnessed," he said and Alberto was silent for a second before responding, "…What are you getting at?"

The Cantonese/Chinese American sighed before responding, "I think…I think we should get more active," he said cryptically.

The Colombian was now lost, "Zane, you lost me. What are you trying to say," he asked again and heard Zane sighing, "We should do more socially aware videos," he said.

Alberto thought it over for a bit, "You mean like…covering things like war and immigration," he asked and Zane responded, "Maybe more like covering things we know and live through. Like immigration, assimilation, bullying, and other things like that."

"Should we mention this to Moradi? Or should we keep it on the down low for a while," Alberto asked, "We could tell Moradi, but this is just an idea. I don't know if the others will agree but, I think we should," Zane said with new confidence and Alberto took notice.

"Alright. We should tell the others later then," Alberto said, "Right. Later," Zane said, "Later," Alberto said and both hung up.

**ALBERTO'S HOME**

**10:40AM**

Alberto hung up and put his music on the stereo, "Deep Purple" and their song "Hush" started playing. He exited the website and went to check his email on Yahoo, and once he opened his account, he already received 20 messages relating to his posted video on the orchestra's website. Some were along the lines of:

I loved your video! Very real and honest

While others were along the lines of:

Pretentious ass! Unlike you, real people have problems

He read a few of them and exited his account. He wanted to text the others, but knew they will encounter the same messages as he did. So for the next few minutes he browsed the Internet, looking up images and looking at videos on YouTube, but then heard his mom calling for him.

"**Alberto! Ven acá.** (Alberto! Come here.)," she yelled out and he got up, much to his chagrin. He turned off his stereo and headed for the living room. He wanted to relax, but his parents came first, "**Mira, su pap****á**** y yo nos vamos para el mercado por lo que podemos cocinar pescado.** (Listen, your father and I are heading for the market so we can cook some fish.)," she said.

Alberto looked at her, "**Pero, no estás cansado?** (But aren't you guys tired.)," he asked and his dad nodded, "**Estamos cansado, pero también tenemos hambre.** (We are tired, but we're also hungry.)," he said tiredly with an exhausted smile and Alberto chuckled a bit.

"**Si el profesor Moradi llama, contactarnos para que podamos poder en contacto con él.** (If Professor Moradi calls, contact us so we may be able to contact him.)," she asked and Alberto nodded, "**Sí, mamá.** (Yeah mom.)," and his parents headed out the door of their third floor apartment. He lived in close proximity to Wilfredo. In fact, just three blocks away.

He slumped down on the sofa and turned on the TV. As he surfed through the channels, he looked at his theorbo leaning against the wall close to the window. He began recalling a moment back in Beirut, where he entertained a couple of kids with his theorbo, playing simple tunes. He remembered their smiles and playful laughter, but then he recalled the helicopters buzzing around with their heavy propellers and the sounds of seagulls in the distance and those that flew around the hotel.

He then picked the Science Channel and began watching a BBC made documentary about gamma ray bursts on the edges of the universe. He didn't really particularly have an interest in astronomy, but he did like the information and the strangeness of these types of stellar events. He continued watching, waiting for his parents to come home.

Nearing the end of the documentary, he decided to pick up his theorbo and played one of the earlier pieces of baroque music he had performed back in 2004. The piece was **Prélude et Allemande **by **Robert de Visée. **He couldn't shake his desire to play the ud, _'I wonder if Moradi will let me experiment with it one of these days,' _he thought to himself and continued playing, _'Maybe, I should ask him next week.'_

As he finished the piece, the documentary finished and outside of the window he heard his mom's car parking. He set his theorbo down and headed out of the apartment so he could help his parents with the groceries.

**GILBERTO'S HOME**

**11:00AM**

Gilberto was taking a nap in his room while his parents visited their relatives, three floors above in their apartment building. The sounds of the outside world relaxed him, the sounds of workers on the streets below using their jackhammers to do some roadwork and pigeons on the railing of his open window. The noise of the outside world mixed with the silence of the inside of the apartment had the unfortunate effect of bringing up memories of the news, and in particular the news clip of the president eating a dinner roll while the British prime minister was trying to get his attention. It made him angry, angry that his president didn't seem to care about what's going on in the world unless it affected his interests (as his parents and relatives often talked about whenever they met up to talk about each others' lives). Another memory that came to mind was when he saw destroyed housing in Beirut on Al-Jazeera. It angered him how innocent people could have their homes destroyed, for just being in the way of angered Israelis.

They had a right to be angry for having some of their people killed, but it didn't excuse their actions for punishing an entire nation due to the actions of one group. After a fitful nap, he awakened and got up to use the bathroom. Once finished, he heard the phone ringing but before he could answer, the answering machine recorded the message. Once done he pressed the machine's play button:

-Mr. and Mrs. Santos, this is Professor Moradi. I would like to talk to you and the other parents as soon as possible about our recent excursion in my home country. Call me back as soon as you can-

The message ceased and Gilberto left the apartment and headed upstairs. Once upstairs he knocked on the door to his uncle and aunt's apartment. The door opened and it was his mom.

"**Gilberto, ay lahat tama?** (Gilberto, is everything alright?)," his mom asked, "**Oo, lamang na Moradi lamang na tinatawag at nais mo at ama upang makipag-usap sa kanya sa lalong madaling -iwan ng mensahe sa makinang panagot**. (Yeah, just that Moradi just called and wants you and dad to talk to him soon. He left a message on the answering machine.)," Gilberto said with a yawn.

"All right. We'll call him soon," his mom said and went back to her husband who called him over, "**Anak darating sa paglipas ng at helohan iyong tiyuhin at tiyahin.**(Son come over and say hello to your uncle and aunt.)," he said and Gilberto went inside.

His uncle spoke up, "**Ang aking kapatid na lalaki dito ay nagsasabi sa amin ang tungkol sa iyong biyahe sa Lebanon. Lebanon! Ikaw ay isang tunay na traveler mundo ngayon bata!** (My brother here has been telling us about your trip to Lebanon. Lebanon! You're a real world traveler now kid!)," he said proudly and Gilberto felt his face heat up a bit.

"**Gilberto. Paano ay biyahe na eksaktong?Sa lahat ng mga balita tungkol sa kontrahan ang pagpunta sa doon at ang iyong mga magulang na nagsasabi sa amin ang tungkol sa kung ano ang nangyari ... gusto naming malaman kung paano mo nadama tungkol sa buong bagay.** (Gilberto. How was the trip to be exact? With all of the news about the conflict going on there and your parents telling us about what happened…we want to know how you felt about the whole thing.)," his aunt spoke up.

He looked at his uncle and aunt and glanced at his parents, all of whom expecting him to respond. He took a deep breath and spoke up, "**Sa kung ano ang nangyari at kung ano ang nakaranas kami ... ang mga jet, ang mga helicopters, ang surreal aresto sa bahay sa hotel, ang aming mga cellphones nagiging weaker at weaker araw-araw, at nanonood ng balita sa walang-hintong ... pangkalahatang…** (With what happened and what we experienced…the jets, the helicopters, the surreal house arrest at the hotel, our cellphones becoming weaker and weaker everyday, and watching the news nonstop…overall…)," he paused for a moment and continued, "**Pangkalahatang biyahe ay mahusay.**(Overall the trip was good.)," he finished.

**MOHAMMAD'S HOME**

**11:12AM**

Mohammad was sorting out the papers from the school board, wanting to cut even more funding for the arts. He groaned and cursed under his breath in Arabic and then his wife, Dania, came in their makeshift office where their file cabinets were.

She set down a cup of tea on the desk, "**Dirait que vous besoin de cela, beau.** (Looks like you need this, handsome)," she said with a smirk, "**Eh bien belle, ressemble à la commission va nous faire plus.** (Well beautiful, looks like the board is going to make us older.)," he playfully retorted back and took his cup.

She sighed, "ا**سمحوا لي أن أخمن، أكثر قطع التمويل حتى يتمكنوا من بناء شيء عديم الجدوى؟** (Let me guess, more funding cuts so they can build something useless?)," she sarcastically asked, "ا**لصحيح وعلى ظهره أيامنا في الولايات المتحدة. ما حمولة من القرف المطلق.**(Correct and on our day back in the States. What a load of utter shit)," he said while taking a sip.

His wife sighed and set down her cup on his desk, "What was bollocks was what happened to us in Beirut and your students had to experience what we essentially had to runaway from years ago," she said in a somber yet contemplative tone of voice.

Mohammad was contemplating her statement, got up and placed his hands on the desk exhausted, "That's my only regret from the trip. Regretting that they have to witness the bombing," he stopped but before his wife could speak, he continued, "But I don't regret my decision for bringing them to our home country. I know they enjoyed themselves and strengthened their friendships," he finished and she embraced him.

He embraced back and inhaled her scent, "**Peut-être.** (Maybe so.)," Dania began and continued, "**Mais je sais aussi ce qu'ils sont sans doute penser à ce moment.** (But I also know what they are probably thinking at this moment.)," she said and Mohammad looked at her.

"Meaning," he asked and she responded, "Meaning they're probably thinking that performing baroque music isn't enough now. They want to participate in some sort of journalistic enterprise while fusing it with the repertoire," she said with conviction.

Mohammad looked at her bewildered, but also knew it was expected, especially from his students, "**وسأكون أكثر فاجأ، ولكن الغريب، وأنا لست كذلك.**(I should be more surprised, but strangely, I'm not.)"

She smiled, "**ويجب علينا أن ندعمهم. بعد كل شيء، كان كل واحد منا في هذا الطريق من قبل.**(And we should support them. After all, both of us have been down this road before.)," she said.

Mohammad sighed, "**وأنا أعلم ... وهذا هو ما يقلقني.**(I know…and that is what's worrying me.)," he said forebodingly.

* * *

**Thus ends a three-part event that the orchestra had to witness. The next chapter will come quickly since it isn't based on an episode of a popular travel show; and will predominantly portray the international orchestral members in Turkey, Lebanon, Brazil, Argentina, and Japan.**

**Oh, and if you're wondering about Wilfredo's thoughts on what happened to him in December of 2004, read the last chapter of Four Walls.**

**Again, I thank HolyDragoon for his help with the Portuguese dialogue. Once again****, read, review, critique and I'll see you soon.**

**Edited: June 23, 2012. I mixed up the names of Mohammad's wife and daughter. Forgive me, his wife's name is Dania while his daughter's is Yasmin. I curse my forgetfulness and not noticing these small details.**


	4. August 2006

**LES MUSICIENS**

**2006**

**A CROSSOVER STORY**

**This chapter revolves around a single day in different parts of the world. In this case, the countries are Turkey, Lebanon, Germany, Brazil, Argentina, and Japan. A vastly multi-lingual chapter that's as challenging as it is exciting to undertake, covering four distinct time zones and this will set the tone for the rest of the story.**

**The piece of music that largely inspired this chapter was "Morning Pray" from the BABEL soundtrack. The reason I picked this track for inspiration because for me, it epitomizes the feeling of distance and the need for closeness.**

"**Ores la crainte et ores l'esperance**

**De tous costez se campent en mon c****œ****ur:**

**Ny l'un ny l'autre au combat n'est veinqueur,**

**Pareils en force et en perseverance.**

**Ores douteux, ores pleins d'asseurance,**

**Entre l'espoir le soup****ç****on et la peur,**

**Pour ester en vain de moy-mesme trompeur,**

**Au c****œ****ur captive je promets delivrance.**

**Verray-je point avant mourir le temps,**

**Que je tondray la fleur de son printemps,**

**Sous qui ma vie ****à**** l'ombrage demeure?**

**Verray-je point qu'en ses bras enlass****é****,**

**Recreu d'amour, tout penthois et lass****é****,**

**D'un beau trespass entre ses bras je meure?"**

**-PIERRE DE RONSARD -**

**-4 (XLIII) from LE PREMIER LIVRE DES AMOURS-**

**(LES AMOURS DE CASSANDRE)**

**AUGUST 2006, WEEK TWO**

**WEDNESDAY, 3:15PM**

Fatma was in her weekly Krav Maga class. She's been practicing this self-defense method since she was nine years old and has become quite the expert. With the grappling, the full contact of trying to take out her opponent without the unnecessary flashy moves excited her. Right now, she was preparing for her match against a Turkish boy her age as she stretched her arms, back, and legs. As well as adjusting the protective body armor involved in this vicious full contact fighting style.

"**Fatma Hahira, pozisyonunuzu alınız.** (Fatma Hahira, please take your position.)," the fighting coach called out her name and she took one end of the roped ring, "**Ömer Çakır, konumunuzu lütfen alın.** (Omar Cakir, take your position please.)," he called the Turkish boy to the ring.

The two stared down at each other and waited for the signal for their match to begin. Their fighting teacher raised his right hand, the two teens squatted and the teacher gave the signal and the two teens rushed at each other and began the match.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**3:45PM**

**ISTANBUL, TURKEY**

**ÜSK****Ü****DAR DISTRICT**

After several matches, and acquiring her black belt, class was adjourned for the day and Fatma, along with her younger sister three years her junior, Marjan, headed home via bus. While heading home, they got texts from their mother that she was heading home from the university. Both were glad and after a twenty-five minute bus trip, they arrived home.

Their home was a simple two-story home, typical of the neighborhoods surrounding the city center. It was on a hill that got good views of the city and the strait where many ships, both fishing and commercial sailed through. The ocean breeze ruffled their hair as they headed walked up the hill and entered inside their home. They took off their shoes and headed upstairs for the bathroom.

"چه روز**.**نمی تونم باور کنم عمر ضرب و شتم به شما که به راحتی**. **(What a day. I can't believe you beat Omar so easily.)," Marjan said happily and proud of her sister, "خوب چه می توانم بگویم، من رد حلقه**. **(Well what can I say, I rule the ring.)," Fatma said quite proudly and both headed inside the bathroom.

"آیا شما به صحبت کردن با دوست پسر خود؟ (Are you going to talk to your boyfriend today?)," Marjan teasingly asked, "چه دوست پسر؟ (What boyfriend?)," Fatma asked confused, "آیا من را گول نزنند**. **من می دانم که تو له عظیم در آن پسر ایتالیا، آرژانتین، دانته**.**شما و او را صرف زمان زیادی را با هم در لبنان است**. **(Don't fool me. I know you have a massive crush on that Italian-Argentine boy, Dante. You and he have spent a lot of time together back in Lebanon.)," Marjan said teasingly.

Fatma felt her face heat up a bit, "من او و زمینه های مشترک و چیزهایی که می دانید، ما فقط دوستان**. **(Well he and I found common ground on things and you know, we're just friends.)," she said hoping her sister will drop the subject. Unfortunately, she just progressed.

"آره مطمئن شوید**. **و آن زمان که هتل را ترک کرد، شما و او لب های دوست داشتنی در لابی بودند**.**آره، که رفتار دوستانه برای مطمئن است**. **(Yeah sure. And that time when we left the hotel, you and he were smacking lips in the lobby. Yeah, that's friendly behavior for sure.)," Marjan teased at her sister and Fatma put her in a headlock, "صحبت کردن مرجان و شما خواهید دید که چه اتفاقی می افتد**. **(Keep talking Marjan and you'll see what happens.)," she said with a smirk and her hands glowed in fiery orange. But Marjan got out of her grip, stuck out her tongue and headed for her room laughing, "شما بهتر اجرا کنید**! **(You better run!)," Fatma yelled out with a playful tone of voice.

She heard the door slam and continued to check herself in the bathroom mirror. Some redness on her arms and bruises that will be more noticeable later on around her torso; she then started a shower.

After finishing her shower, fifteen minutes later, she headed for her room and her sister passed her so she can take her shower. She closed the door behind her and turned on her TV with Al-Jazeera on. Another broadcast on the refugee camps set up around Beirut, Lebanon, following the ceasefire on the nearly month long war. She still felt angry about the aggressive policies on the Israelis' side of the conflict, but she knew her aggression was misplaced. She couldn't blame the entire nation of Israel for what followed in July, only those in charge who gave the green light to the bombing.

One of the images that struck her the most was a father holding the dead body his daughter, who looked no more than six years of age. It made her recall a very early childhood memory, one for years her conscious mind has repressed. But whenever that memory would come up, she would use a lighter to put up a small flame and let it slowly and lightly envelop her body, mingling with her abilities and cleared her mind. Only her family has ever known about her abilities, even to a few friends, but she never revealed them to her friends in the orchestra. She tried to reveal them to Dante but the conflict that went on prevented her from doing so. There were also moments while she hung out with them where she sensed heightened spiritual/telekinetic auras from Wilfredo, Cecilia, Shinji, Asuka, and Dante.

She turned on her laptop and plugged in her digital camera. In a few minutes Dante was going to log in from Buenos Aires. Since leaving Beirut and getting to know him, she wanted to know more about him. While she talked to him, she could tell there were things he was ashamed of revealing to her or even to their American friends. She logged onto her account on MySpace, but she already decided to use her new Facebook account from now on while chatting with her international friends.

After dressing in a simple white shirt and red shorts, she put on some music from her iTunes library. In this case, it was music by "Savina Yannatou and Primavera en Salonico" and their album "Terra Nostra". While the music played, she lit up a match and glanced at the globe on top of her bookcase and she let the flame engulf her hand. The fire never burned her skin, she remembered when she was a child, praying in front of a flame common in her religion, when as she prayed, the flame reached over and engulfed her from the head down to her toes and dissipated after a short moment. Her mother was deeply concerned, but knew of her spiritual sensitivity as something from her husband's side of the family.

Then a beep from her computer monitor woke her from her journey down memory lane. It was Dante who had just logged in; she smiled and clicked her mouse so their chat session could begin.

"**Ciao Bello**," she greeted Dante in Italian with half closed eyes, "**Ciao bella**. **Sempre una gioia da assaporare la vostra bellezza. **(Always a joy to relish your beauty)," he replied with a playful smirk.

Fatma rolled her eyes, "**Perché non eri presente civettuola a Beirut?** (Why weren't you this flirtatious in Beirut?)," she asked and Dante chuckled and thought for a moment, "Well, it was because I wanted to be a gentleman while with you. Anything on screen is a fantasy," he said.

She looked at him, "You're saying everything we have said and suggested on screen was entirely a fantasy," she asked, curious to see how he would respond. Then he responded, "Not entirely. I suppose since we have our conversations online, things are naturally heightened."

Fatma had a bemused look on her face, "You know, I find it charming how you can go from casual speech to an almost academic level of conversation," she said with a smile and Dante chuckled, "Well, that's a good thing. In my mind anyway," he added and both smiled.

"How are things in Istanbul," he asked, "Pretty well. I just had a Krav Maga match with one of the students and I managed to earn the black belt for my efforts. Well, only just," she said and Dante was smiling.

"Congratulations! I didn't know you practiced Krav Maga," he said enthusiastically, "Well its not something I advertise, but I am pretty good," she said in one of rare moments of bashfulness.

"And since we're revealing martial arts secrets, I practice Filipino Kali myself and a bit of Krav Maga," Dante said and she looked at him with a happy expression, "Really? Wow," she said and softened her expression, "I suppose our limited time together last month didn't leave any room for moments like this," Fatma revealed another facet of their friendship.

Dante looked at her amused, "I'm guessing the next question would be why haven't we revealed this during our earlier conversations," he asked and she responded also with an amused expression, "We never asked one another."

After a chuckle between them they continued revealing what has gone on in their lives. Whether one of their friends trying to set them up with someone, or how the weather in their cities have impeded their enjoyment of summer. Then Fatma heard her mother, Nazeria, calling her and Marjan from downstairs.

"My mother is home. Sorry that our chat is cut short today," Fatma apologized, "Don't worry. There's always tomorrow," Dante assured Fatma, "And say hi to your family for me," he added.

Fatma smiled, "I will and uh…see you tomorrow," she said, trying to hide her heated face. And apparently, Dante tried to angle his heated face away from her vision as well; "Yeah…tomorrow," and both gave sheepish grins at each other.

Fatma logged out of her account and closed the MySpace window. She headed downstairs and sees her mother in the kitchen, setting the stove with pots, lighting up the fire, and chopping up a few onions and herbs.

"چه چیزی می گیری مادر؟ (What are you making mom?)," she asked, "سوپ عدس قرمز**. **ارسال خواهر خود را برای شستن به بالا و پایین جدول تنظیم**.**و پس از آن، عدس را در قابلمه قرار دهید، آن را پوشش خبری با آب و آن را برای نه دقیقه و یا بیشتر جوش**. **(Red lentil soup. Tell your sister to wash up and get down to set the table. And after that, place the lentils in the saucepan, cover it with water and have it boil for nine minutes or so.)," she said.

Fatma absorbed the information and went upstairs to get her sister. After a few moments both girls came downstairs and as Marjan began setting the table as Fatma began the process of cooking with her mother. She then took out a stockpot, put some olive oil and transferred the six chopped onions, turmeric, and cumin into the pot to fry them up a bit until golden. After nine minutes, she transferred the lentils, broth and water to the pot. Her mother added salt and nigella seeds. After a while, they brought it to a boil and lowered the heat and allowed it to simmer for 40 minutes. They fried up the remaining onion in olive oil until crisp and waited for the soup to be ready.

As they sat down with Marjan, the three discussed their day. Nazeria talked about the recent number of journalists and interns leaving for Beirut to cover the increasing count of refugees leaving the country and reporting on the number of the dead. Fatma and Marjan, in an attempt to get away from the heavy subject matter for today, completing their matches in Krav Maga and praising Fatma for her victory and Marjan continued to tease Fatma about her growing infatuation with Dante. Fatma threatened to roast her in a pit of flames and their mother settled them down. Nazeria knew her oldest daughter has a growing crush on the talented Argentine boy, both young people with inner beauty with deep scars of loss. Fatma looked up at her and could sense what she was thinking and she blushed a bit.

After a while of talking between these two subjects, and watching a bit of TV, 40 minutes came and went. They served each other red lentil soup and added the fried onion toppings on their soup and began eating.

**BEIRUT, LEBANON**

**RAS BEIRUT, CORNICHE SEAFRONT**

**4:55PM**

The late afternoon seemed to drag on as Ahmed and his parents spent the day at the beach. Ludicrous since the ceasefire was just recently declared. Although the city remained largely intact, South Beirut was another story with more bombings and destroyed housing. Many of the civilians knew what it meant, the beginnings of the rise of Hezbollah, who provided shelter, money and security for the residents in the affected areas.

His parents were heading back to their car, but Ahmed said he wanted to stay a bit longer to take more photos of the beach and the people for a little longer. They gave him the okay and drove off, and for Ahmed he wasn't fazed by his decision…he lived on the direct bus route for his home just a ten-minute bus ride away.

He put his shoes and socks into his backpack, rolled up his pants and walked down the beach, heading for the water. As he took pictures of the few journalists walking around, hoping to get a call to cover something since the ceasefire, and seeing a few Israelis from Israel or from those from Europe and the US, he couldn't help but feel a bit of restrained rage. But he knew that if he showed it, it wouldn't benefit his writing and his photo posts on **Ya Libnan**, the most diverse news site that provides up to date account on Lebanon's fast-paced cultural, political, and security situation. What was great for Ahmed was that it provided author anonymity and safety for the writers, but the most interesting part of the website is that many writers are volunteers…with no political or financial agendas.

As he took pictures and writing down his thoughts in his notebook, he noticed three fair skinned people in their early twenties approaching him with a map and cameras on hand.

"Hello, I'm Bernard and these are my friends, Rachel and Jonathan. We're from London, England and we're a bit lost. Can you help us by any chance," Bernard explained their situation.

Ahmed got up and walked up to them, "Of course no problem. Let me see the map," he said and the three handed him the map. He looked at it and asked them where their hotel was and the street. After a few moments, he found it and their hotel, the InterContinental Phoenicia Hotel that was on his way home, along the **Ave de Paris** that then becomes the **Rue Minet el-Hosn** and then the **Place Rafic al-Hariri**. After a few moments of waiting for the bus, they got on and as they rode down the road and seeing the beach roll by, they started talking.

"Thank you uh…we didn't get your name," Bernard chuckled as did Ahmed, "My name is Ahmed Said and as you can see, still in high school," he said grinning.

Emily spoke up, "How are you finding this whole situation that occurred with Israel? The three of us are freelance journalists and we were going around asking the locals for their points of view," she revealed.

Ahmed looked at the three of them, "Well, when I witnessed it, I was rehearsing and interacting with orchestral members from the US, Brazil, Argentina, Germany, Japan, and Turkey. During the week prior to the…"

"Wait! You're part of an orchestra that complex," Jonathan asked and Ahmed nodded, "Yeah. We're pretty good in my opinion, but during that week…things went south when the bombing started," he said with a bit of heaviness.

The three were silent for a brief moment until Bernard asked, "What is your honest opinion about the current political climate," and Ahmed just looked at him slightly bewildered.

"That's an odd question, considering you're in Lebanon and the majority are critical about Israeli policies," he said and then Rachel dropped the bombshell, "How would you feel if you said that to Israelis themselves," she asked.

Ahmed just looked at them with raised eyebrows and with the sun piercing through the windows, blinding his left eye, he asked the burning question, "Are you three Israelis?"

The three nodded, "Yes, but we're British first," Jonathan said and Ahmed couldn't help but ask the other burning question, "Do you three agree with Israel's policies regarding the Middle East? In this case, my country of Lebanon?"

Rachel answered, "We don't agree with them," she bluntly answered which surprised Ahmed, "Really? But, but I thought that all of Israelis agree with Israel and their policies towards Arabs…or even their highly controversial policies towards Palestinians," he carefully worded his response, not wanting to step on already sensitive toes.

Bernard coughed to clear his throat and to also word out the thoughts of his friends and his own carefully, "Not every Israeli believes in the same thing. The three of us are examples of that," Ahmed looked at them and they continued.

The three explained their work for Reporters Without Borders and how they bring stories most major media companies won't cover due to political ideologies. They not only disagreed with what Lebanon has been through for a month, but also Zionism, the policy of displacing Palestinians from their homeland. The four discussed it a bit while riding the bus, sharing their experiences of either getting into shouting matches or seeing their families participating in rallies and gatherings.

After thirteen minutes or so, the four got off at the corner of the hotel. They bid each other farewell and as the three headed inside, Ahmed went to the other bus stop so he could wait for another to take him home.

He took out his iPod and put his headphones so he could listen to "Kode9 + The Spaceape" and their song "Glass". He got into the underground genre of music due to one of his schoolmates brother who was a deejay in one of the nightclubs in downtown. Then the bus came and rode it for an additional three minutes until he was back in his neighborhood. Continuing to listen to Kode9, he went up to his house and noticed the smells of his mother's cooking in the kitchen.

"ابن الوطن**. **(I'm home.)," he called out, "فقد حان الوقت ابنه**. **اصعد ونستحم**. **وسوف تكون جاهزة قريبا عشاء**. **(It's about time son. Go upstairs and wash up. Dinner will be ready soon.)," his father, Yussef told him from the couch while reading some papers from the university.

Ahmed went upstairs to take a quick shower. After finishing, he put his sea en-coated clothes into the dirty clothes pile and changed into a simple white t-shirt and blue sweatpants. He put on his sandals and headed downstairs and today, the three decided to eat dinner on the patio, overlooking their neighborhood.

He then revealed he met three Israeli British citizens while at the beach. His parents looked shocked and asked him what they wanted and he told them that they were reporters for Reporters Without Borders and wanted to interview locals about their views on what happened to the country.

"أي شيء آخر حدث؟ (Anything else happened?)," his mother, Nadia asked and Ahmed nodded a no, **"**أنا فقط وأظهرت لهم كيف أن نعود إلى الفندق، وبعد أن انتظرت فقط للحافلة**.** (I just showed them how to get back to their hotel and after that I just waited for the bus.)," he explained and took a sip of his tea.

His father looked at him, "إنه لأمر غريب كيف اجتمع ثلاثة بريطانيين الإسرائيلي على الشاطئ نفسه لدينا غادر لتوه**.** (It's strange how you met three Israeli Brits on the same beach we have just left.)," he said as he set down his tea.

Ahmed chuckled, "صدفة، ربما**. **المؤامرة؟ سآخذ لاجراء محادثات مع أصدقائي دولي حول هذا الموضوع**. **(Coincidence, maybe. Conspiracy? I'll have to talk to my international friends about this.)," he said as he took a bite of his dinner.

His mother looked at him while she wiped her mouth a bit, "متحدثا من أصدقائك، ولكم جميعا نشر أي أكثر منها التعبير عن أفكارهم قبل وبعد العروض الخاصة بك؟ (Speaking of your friends, have all of you posted any more of them expressing their thoughts prior to and after your performances?)," she asked and Ahmed looked at her and then at his father.

Ahmed swallowed his food, "حسنا **... **لدينا**. **أساسا عن حياتنا في كل من المدن**. **أم لا ونحن في طريقنا للتخرج في المدرسة الثانوية والالتحاق بالجامعات وجود أو عدم الأوركسترا لدينا يمكن أن تتطور حقا مع الأساس الوحيد لدينا ذخيرة من الباروك**. **(Well…we have. Mainly about our lives in are respective cities. Whether or not we're going to graduate high school and attend college and whether or not our orchestra can really develop with only the basis of our baroque repertoire.)," he explained and his parents were silent for a moment.

"معنى ماذا بالضبط؟ (Meaning what exactly?)," his mother asked and Ahmed started to explain, **"**يعني كل واحد منا وقررت لنشر القصص والصور والفيديو حول إدخالات دفتر اليومية **... **الأشياء التي هي مهمة لترويها**. **في حين أن وسائل الإعلام لا تغطي هذا، في الأساس، فإن الأميركيين لديهم المزيد من العمل على هذا من بقيتنا**.** (Meaning all of us decided to post stories, photos and video journal entries about…things that are important to tell. Whereas the mass media isn't covering it, basically, the Americans have more work on this than the rest of us.)"

His parents looked at him with bemused looks, "حسنا، واتخاذ الاحتياطات مع ما كنت على وشك القيام به**. **هناك أناس هناك من سوف يكون المتضرر من قبل أي شخص أيا كان أن تتمكن من المشاركة عبر الإنترنت**.** (Well, take precaution with what you're about to do. There are people out there who will be offended by whatever anyone can post online.)," his father explained.

Ahmed nodded in agreement and continued eating. He didn't want to tell them of his anonymous submissions to **Yi Liban**, just yet. Knowing how journalists in this part of the world aren't exactly well respected or appreciated for their work. So for the time being, he'll keep his mouth shut about the whole thing. After dinner, he headed upstairs to write on his blog and occasionally chat with his friends on the other side of the Atlantic.

**HAMBURG, GERMANY**

**HARBURG BOROUGH**

**3:30PM**

Asuka was packing up her suitcase. Her mother and she, along with her mother's newly married fiancé were planning a weeklong trip to Berlin. But the unusual bit on this trip was that it was going to revolve around seeing an abandoned concentration camp nearby. Somewhat of a journey from Hamburg, but Asuka couldn't really complain, since in some way, she wanted to see the camp. As a German, knowing the history isn't enough; one must stare down the awful past in the face. After setting up her suitcase for the week, she looked down at her already prepaid train ticket for Berlin on Friday at 11:15am.

There were a few things from her past that still reside in her room. Things she kept hidden from her adoptive parents, until the time was ripe enough to reveal everything. Earlier in the week, she decided to open up on a few things regarding the EVA while away in Berlin. She opened up her drawer and picked up her now dusty Nerve Clippings, wondering if the other two kept theirs. One time her mother discovered them, but she played them off as hair accessories. Now however, she knew she couldn't keep them hidden forever.

When she told the other two about her decision, they were shocked to say the least. Dante and Shinji didn't think it was the time to reveal their pasts to their new families. Dante planned to reveal when it was around early next year while Shinji planned to reveal his near the end of the upcoming semester. But Asuka discussed this further with them, ending in a shouting match with Dante, but with Shinji…things were more drawn out. Not only the two were now official, with their new dynamic of a long distance relationship, the distance is making things more emotionally charged. In addition to the time zones separating them, making communication difficult and frustrating, there had been moments where Shinji and Asuka argued and gave each other the digital equivalent of the cold shoulder.

While absorbed in her thoughts, a knock on her bedroom door brought her back to the present, "**Ja?** (Yes?)," she called out and her door opened, "**Ich bin es lieben. Haben Sie Ihre Sachen gepackt? **(It's me love. Have you finished packing?)," her mother, Angela, asked looking at her daughter's suitcase.

Asuka nodded a yes, "**Ja. Allein der Gedanke an einige Dinge.** (Yeah. Just thinking about few things.)," she opened up a bit to her mother.

Angela looked at her back, Asuka still packing away a few more items. In this case a camera that still uses film, a video camera to post the footage of the camp on the website, and a few photos of her friends.

Asuka zipped her suitcase closed and turned around to face her mother, "**... Ich habe über die Umstände, die mir gestellt haben zur Adoption freigegeben und ... meinen beiden Freunden in Argentinien und Japan nachgedacht. **(…I've been thinking about the circumstances that have put me up for adoption and…my two friends in Argentina and Japan.)," she explained her thoughts and her mother looked at her.

Angela let the silence between them fill the void a bit until she spoke up, "**Planen Sie Ihre Vergangenheit mit mir zu offenbaren? Weil, wenn du bist, ich bin nicht unter Druck, Sie, dies zu tun. **(Are you planning to reveal your past with me? Because if you are, I'm not pressuring you to do so.)," she explained and Asuka looked at her.

She then looked at a photo of herself with Dante and Shinji, from Philadelphia last year a few days prior to their final departure, "**Du bist nicht mich unter Druck ... aber ich möchte ein paar Dinge über meine Vergangenheit ... mit meiner Mutter und meinen tiefen Beziehungen zu Dante und Shinji enthüllen.** (You're not pressuring me…but I do want to unveil a few things about my past…involving my mother and my deep relations to Dante and Shinji.)," she explained with a melancholic realization to her now permanent reality.

Angela sighed and approached her daughter, giving her a hug that lasted half a minute, "**Ihre türkische Vormund erklärt bestimmte Ereignisse auf, was passiert ist, um Ihre biologische Mutter. Wie sie Selbstmord begangen.** (Your Turkish guardian explained certain events on what happened to your biological mother. How she committed suicide.)," Asuka's eyes widened slightly but she did remember that she had told her guardian about her mother and father, as well as her stepmother. It was logical that her new mother would be notified about these details.

Asuka let go of her mother and so did her mother, "**Sie tat ja ... aber alles was danach folgte ... Ich will sie Ihnen und Pascal offenbaren ... aber ich will warten, bis wir nach Berlin zu bekommen. Ist das okay? **(She did yeah…but everything that followed after…I want to disclose them to you and Pascal…but I want to wait until we get to Berlin. Is that okay?)," she said with barely contained sorrow, but she wouldn't break down in front of her mother.

Angela smiled softly and placed a kiss on her daughter's forehead, "**Natürlich.** (Of course.)," she then left and Asuka heard her going downstairs. She sighed and set down her suitcase next to her bed.

She then headed for the stereo to continue listening to **La Resurrezione **by **Georg Friedrich H****ä****ndel **and currently listening to John Mark Ainsley singing the aria '**Ecco Il Sol, Ch'Esce Dal Mar'. **The oratorio was one of the constant pieces of music she listened to whenever she had a lot of things going on in her head, especially since last year when she and her friends lived in Philadelphia for six months. It had special meaning, as if she and her two comrades were in the process of resurrection. And since it was performed by one of her favorite ensembles, Les Musiciens du Louvre-Grenoble with their conductor Marc Minkowski, they provided a more sensual yet festive feel to the piece.

She continued to listen to the oratorio as she danced a bit around her room and singing various arias in either the soprano or mezzo-soprano range. Since she was a violinist, singing came almost naturally. And as a musician, especially with a period ensemble, she knows of **Giuseppe Tartini**, the Italian violin master who developed the method of violin playing once said, "In order to play well, one must sing well".

The wind outside, the warm summer breeze blew the curtain slightly and she felt the wind caress her face and open arms. She slowed down her dancing and wondered if the wind came from further east, from the United States where her four American musician friends were, from Brazil where Cecilia was, from Argentina where Dante was, and finally…from Japan where Shinji was…

She continued to dance and move to the oratorio, aggressively for the fast bits and slowly for the slow bits. Between interpretive dancing and waltz like movements and she didn't even notice her about to be new father Pascal watching her for a few moments before heading for the bathroom. Then the aria '**Per Celare Il Muovo Scorno' **sung by Laurent Naouri began playing.

**SALVADOR DA BAHIA, BRAZIL**

**PERIPERI SUB-DISTRICT**

**11:47AM**

Cecilia was heading for her father's capoeira school just a five-minute walk from their home. Since her father founded the school when she was eight years old, after he and her mother separated, she's grown up to become an expert in the martial art and dance. During that time, she's also grown more adept with a special ability from her father's side of the family where she can use water as a healing agent with her innate gift. Unknown to the others, she and Wilfredo shared each other's abilities when Cecilia healed a bruise she got from tripping on the wet pool time with a few drops of water. Wilfredo noticed and she wasn't particularly willing to open up, but when he revealed his aural abilities, she gradually opened up to him.

When she left, she felt something coming off of Wilfredo, as if his aura was attempting to reach out and communicate. The distinct difference was that while his was colored blood red, hers was more along the lines of palm green. Since their Lebanon excursion, the two have been in contact with one another and there were times she poked some fun at Wilfredo, namely on their Portuguese dialects. There were times he couldn't understand some of the words she used, as she was whenever he spoke in his dialect. But they got by in Portuguese, or in English, sometimes in Spanish.

While walking towards the capoeira school she heard her schoolmates preparing to play their music, a mixture of samba and funk at a venue. She waved and approached them to have a brief chat, mentioning that her five friends didn't suck too much.

Then a DJ asked her to help out his swelled up hand, one she joked to excessive masturbation. She used water from her unopened water bottle to do some minor healing, where her hands glowed a whitish blue. If it were major injuries, the bluer they get and when she was done and ball busted her friend, she headed to her father's capoeira school.

Once she arrived, she noticed some students who arrived early and prepared to set up the room. In the middle was a large, painted, circle where the students practice their moves and have the instrumentalists play the music. But since this is a communal martial art, everyone joins in, including the instrumentalists. When she was younger, the music would always put her in a trance only her father could bring her out of. Now, at sixteen years of age, she's been better at controlling her trances and would control her healing abilities, since they could in turn use water as a ferocious weapon.

There was a moment she shared with Wilfredo prior to the Hezbollah incident, when he and she practiced some of their martial arts. He showed her some moves in Filipino Kali, while she showed him some moves in capoeira. It was an interesting workout at the local gym, where both tried to subdue the other using their own skills. Wilfredo was confused on how to handle her style with her feet, elbows, knees and fists as her primary weapons while Cecilia kept her distance, knowing close quarters was where he dominated. It was an interesting match and their walk back to the hotel was fun for both of them, showing off their aural abilities.

She smiled internally at the memory, and when her father came in, everyone sat down as he greeted his students. Cecilia was called forth to lead the **roda **during their capoeira game, or a simulated fight, starting with the **ginga**. The instruments they used were a row of drums (**bateria**), three **berimbau**, one **agogô** and the people gathered around for clapping and singing the traditional songs. Today was somewhat different, with new students about to have their **bautizados**.

An hour after the class, the students packed up and headed for home. Cecilia and her father João headed for his car and headed for the radio station one mile away. It was one of the ways the two discovered Les Musiciens, through people's comments online about a new orchestra from the US, accepting international members. He was responsible for relaying the news of the days, whether local, national, or international for the people in the community who can't read. Cecilia's responsibility was to relay youth events coming up, including her friends' band performing tonight.

During their five-minute break, Cecilia's father started to focus his attention on his daughter, "**Você foi excelente hoje na sua aula com os novos alunos** (Love, you were great today at the class with the new students)," he praised his daughter, "**Obrigado Pai, e se quer saber acerca das minhas habilidades, eu as usei hoje para ajudar com a ferida de uma amigo. Mais nada depois disso.** (Thanks dad and if you want to know about my abilities, I've used them today to help a friend's injury. Nothing else after that.)," she explained and her father looked at her and checked the radio equipment.

"**Obrigado por me dizeres isso. Não estou muito preocupado com o que acontece quando os está usando, mas tenha cuidado quando os usa.** (Thanks for telling me. Although, I'm not too concerned nowadays with what happens when you use them. However, just take precaution whenever you use them.)," he said with concern and she nodded, "**Eu sei, especialmente quando conheci o Wilfredo, outro médium ou****místico...as minhas habilidades ficaram mais sensitivas ao longo deste mês.** (I know, especially when I befriended Wilfredo, another medium or mystic…my abilities have gotten more sensitive over the month.)," she revealed.

João turned away from the equipment and observed her carefully, "**Hmmm, bem, pelo que eu estou vendo, a sua aura está mais desenvolvida. Provavelmente é porque você encontrou outra alma sensitiva ou talvez as abilidades dele ou complementam ou têm um efeito adverso nas suas.** (Hmmm, well from what I can see, your aura is more heightened. Probably because you've encountered another sensitive soul or perhaps his abilities either compliment or have adverse effects with your own.)," he gave his assumptions and she nodded.

"**Uma espiritualidade** **diferente?** (Different spirituality you mean?)," she asked and he nodded a no, "**Não exactamente. Mais como... a aura dele é governada por memórias e emoções enquanto as suas são baseadas em emoções interagindo com outros e a música, claro.** (Not exactly. More like…his aura is governed by memories and emotions while yours is based on emotions interacting with others and music of course.)," he said, adding to the fact that music has always been the center of her abilities.

Cecilia just shook her head, "**Olhe, por muito que eu quisesse explorar essa sua teoria, você está de novo no ar.** (Look as much as I would like to explore this theory of yours, you're back on the air.)," she pointed out the red flashing light and her father resumed his radio duties. Cecilia looked at him and then checked her cellphone and looked up Wilfredo's number, _'__**Pergunto-me se ele está disponível para falar mais tarde**__**?**__ (I wonder if he's available to chat later today?),' _she thought to herself and started to send her text.

**[Me mande uma mensagem se quiser falar comigo mais tarde.]**

{[Text me back if you want to talk later.]}

**BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA**

**CIUDAD JARD****Í****N LOMAS DEL PALOMAR**

**1:07PM**

It's been a while since his brief chat with Fatma online, and to pass the time he ventured out into the cold winter. Since living in Argentina for nearly a year now, he's long used to the seasonal reversal, and as a former astronomer, the different constellations were a joy for him to see through his telescope his new father bought him last year. With Asuka planning to open up to her new family, he decided to open up as well in a few days, at least with what he went through with his parents' deaths.

Outside had overcast of clouds, with a rainstorm just finished with its downpour. But with the cold, he wore a brown jacket with a grey sweater underneath with a blue scarf and black jeans with black and white Pumas. But since he forgot his gloves, "God it's freezing…but it could worse. Like a perpetual summer or something similar," he muttered under his breath.

Living nearly twelve miles from the city center, the planned urban community was a refuge for him, especially with his hypomanic episodes that could easily be stimulated by too much stimuli. It somewhat reminded him of the Amity district of Philadelphia with the slower pace of the people, but it did have music events when it wasn't raining. He thought about it and realized that he and his former EVA comrades haven't talked to Danny and the others since moving to their new homes; he felt somewhat of an ass about that.

He walked to the local market while listening to "**Lascia la spina, cogli la rosa" **by **Georg Friedrich** **H****ä****ndel**, performed by Les Musiciens du Louvre, sung by Cecilia Bartoli from her album Opera Proibita, something his mother used to sing to him as a toddler. He told this to his new Argentine parents, about how his mother used to sing nearly forgotten arias from the baroque period and how his grandfather taught him the harpsichord. There were moments like his mother's accidental stabbing, his father's murder, and his near suicide when he was twelve that he rather keep to himself…for a while longer anyway.

With a siesta currently in session, most places were closed and this reminded him so much of his old home of Rome. One of the things he missed was the centuries old architecture that stretches from Imperial Rome to the Renaissance, Baroque, neo-Classical to the Modern. As an Italian he never gave a second thought to his fortune to once living in Rome, since the past was always. But now living in Latin America, the energy of progression drives his new outlook, but the past keeps coming back.

He walked to the park and sat on a relatively dry bench, and then noticed his sister Adriana coming up to him, "**Che Dante. Es bueno que vos ve aqu****í****.** (Hey Dante. Nice to see you here.)," she greeted and sat down next to him, "**Necesitaba un poco aire fresco.** (I needed some fresh air.)," he responded somewhat tired.

She looked at her younger brother; "**Vos ha estado tranquilo durante unos días. Cualquier cosa que usted importa a hablar?** (You've been quiet for a few days. Anything you care to talk about?)," she asked and he nodded a yes, "**…Hay algo que tengo quiere hablar con ustedes…de mi familia y mi pasado.** (…There's something I want to talk about with all of you…about my family and my past.)," he said melancholically.

Adriana raised her eyebrows, "**Ya sabes que no tenga que hacerlo.** (You know you don't have to.)," she said but Dante sighed, "**Pero ha sido un año. Crees que sería capaz de abrir de mí ... y además Asuka está planificando la misma cosa.** (But it's been a year. You think I would be able to open up about myself…and in addition, Asuka is planning the same thing.)," he revealed to Adriana.

Now she was surprised at this revelation, "**Wow, pero cómo sobre tu otro amigo, Shinji. Estará planeando algo por el estilo? Porque si es ...** (Wow, but how about your other friend, Shinji. Is he planning something along those lines? Because if he is…)" before she could continue, Dante interrupted her, "**Estamos cansado.** (We're just tired.)," he said.

Adriana looked at him slightly confused, "**¿Cansado de qué?** (Tired of what?)," she asked and he sighed, "**Cansado de ocultar la mierda de todos ustedes.** **Y ¿te acuerdas cuando vos me preguntó por mis heridas?** (Tired of hiding shit from all of you. And do you remember when you asked me about my scars)," he held up his left arm then his right arm to emphasis his point, "**Casi tuve un ataque de ansiedad durante mi período de ánimo normal. **(I nearly had an anxiety attack during my period of normal mood.)," he explained, clearly frustrated with himself.

Adriana didn't have anything to say to make him feel better. She remembered how her brother along with Shinji and Asuka would have some conversational moments with their four friends from the US away from everyone else, under harsh hushed tones of voice. She always wondered how and what could make them so frustrated and private, but knowing how they are, especially her brother she wouldn't call them out or interrogate them.

She wrapped her left hand around him, "**Ya sabes, los representantes de la embajada nos dio pocos detalles sobre usted antes de que le adoptó.** **Pero ellos también dicho que sus pasados y las circunstancias son algo que no debemos tratar de palanca de usted. Es tu decisión si desea o no revelarlo ahora o más tarde. Debes saber que. Eres dieciséis años. **(You know, your embassy representatives gave us few details on you before we adopted you. But they also said that your pasts and circumstances are something we shouldn't try to pry from you. It's your choice whether or not to reveal it now or later. You should know that. You're sixteen now.)," she reassured her younger brother.

Dante chuckled, "**Sí, ya lo debe saber mejor ... gracias Adriana.** (Yeah, I should know better…thanks Adriana.)," he said humbly, "**De nada **(You're welcome.)," she said, "**Y acerca de su próxima actuación para el Viernes online con tu amigos. ¿Cuál es la pieza que se presentará?** (And about your next performance on Friday with your friends online. What is the piece you will be performing.)," she asked and he smiled, "**Concerto da camera for Cello, 2 Violins and Basso continuo in d-minor de** **Antonio Caldara**," he said enthusiastically.

She smiled at her brother's improved mood, "**¿Y qué va a realizar la próxima semana? **(And what will you perform next week?)," she asked, "**Partita I in D minor** **de** **Heinrich Ignaz Franz Biber**," he said happily and she giggled.

"**Ustedes son fanáticos tales de música!** (You guys are such music geeks!)," she teased a bit and he shoved her and she shoved back. Both teased each other until they got up and headed back to their home.

Dante then looked at his sister, "**Adriana ... ¿crees que Fatma me quiere?** (Adriana…do you think Fatma likes me?)," he asked, never before he was nervous about a girl before, "**¿Por qué me lo preguntas? **(Why are you asking me?)," she asked with a playful smirk.

Dante's face heated up a bit, "**Sabes nuestros chats…y creo que…bueno, ya sabes.** (You know about our chats…and I think…well, you know.)" he said hesitantly, "**No, yo no lo sé.** (No, I don't know.)," she smirked and he grumbled a bit, "**No me haga decirlo, Adriana. **(Don't make me say it, Adriana.)"

She knew of his infatuation with the Iranian girl, and she noticed how Fatma would talk to Dante with a glimmer in her eyes, as did he. But also knew both had dark pasts they needed to work out if they ever wanted to pursue things. So for now, she's going to tease him about it whenever she could.

**KYOTO, JAPAN**

**SAKY****Ō****-KU WARD**

**THURSDAY, 1:15AM**

It's been two hours since he and his family got back from the festival. It was called **Daimon-ji Gozan Okuribi**, a festival to bid farewell to the souls of ancestors, part of the national holiday of **O-Bon**. He couldn't fall asleep for some reason. He got up and opened his bedroom window, letting the cool night air fill his room without trying to wake up Haruki. The quiet early morning soothed some of his thoughts, but not what happened during the festival and what he revealed…

_During the festival, Shinji went with his parents and his older brother. Some of his classmates from the school he's now enrolled in were also there and he hung out with them. During his time there, he noticed kanji letters written in fire in the surrounding hills, guiding the spirits of the ancestors to the world of the living to visit their relatives and descendants. There was also a moment prior to arriving to the festival where his new family visited their ancestor's gravestones and cleaning them while praying and offering their respects. He felt somewhat at a loss, since he doesn't have a family to pray to, aside from his mother who disappeared in his Unit-01. And he still hasn't forgiven his father, but has managed to somewhat let go of his past…somewhat. He opened up to his family, but knew the time to fully open up is at hand._

_After hanging out with his friends, he went back to his family, enjoying his time with them. Then there was a moment where they approached a river and sees children and young middle school kids lighting up torches on small boats made of paper and light wood. There was a small stand where people can make one for a small price and Shinji along with his older brother Haruki decided to build their own. Haruki admitted he hasn't done this for years, but for Shinji who never has done this, decided for tonight, he would make the exception. When the two finished, they headed for the river's edge and gently put their boats on the water and watched them float away slowly down the river for parts unknown._

_Shinji noticed how the light from the candles of each boat reflect off of the water, shimmering in the dark night, as if the lights were flickering with the presences of things ethereal. He never believed in the afterlife, even with what happened to Wilfredo or even Danny last year, even encountering that mysterious boy once in Sam's home. There are things he'll believe and things he won't, but he did believe that one day…he and his comrades will seek and find redemption for what they have done and reconcile with what has happened to them. He also thought about his relationship with Asuka, which as vastly improved since its inception last year. Keeping in touch was difficult, due to differing time zones and wishing to be in close proximity with her again. His brother noticed Shinji's somber behavior at that moment and reached out to rub his back comfortingly, neither one saying a word. And for their moment at that moment, looking at the flicking lights going into the night to disappear and appear somewhere, it was enough._

Shinji sighed and briefly looked at himself in the mirror, noticing the slight lean muscles he gained from continuing to practice the self-defense martial arts like Asuka and Dante in Krav Maga and Filipino Kali from his days in NERV. However, he joined an afterschool club where he practiced **Kyudo** that involved firing an arrow with a unique bow called the **Yumi** bow. For him it was more focused than him doing harsh martial arts, it allowed him to center his still developing abilities. Of course, he and along with his two former comrades' abilities have developed significantly since a year ago, but they never used them, just trying to perform experiments, seeing what they could do with them out of public view.

He sighed and got back to his bottom bunk and heard Haruki moving around and looking down on him from his bunk, "**あなたは大丈夫？** (You alright?)," he asked sleepily and Shinji looked at him, "**うん。私はちょうど考えています。** (Yeah. I'm just thinking.)," he replied.

Haruki looked at him and got down from his bunk and sat on the edge of Shinji's bed. Both were silent again and Haruki gave an understanding look, "**ときに、あなたの過去について開くことを計画していますか？あなたは一度か二度の前にそれに言及しているので。 **(When are you planning to open up about your past? Because you mentioned it once or twice before.)," Haruki spoke up softly so both wouldn't have trouble falling asleep.

Shinji looked at him and noticed how the crickets outside sang in the early morning, relishing in the cool night only to burn and hide from the punishing sun in the day. He focused on his brother and sighed, "**私は知りません****...****私は私の友人二人も同様に計画している知っている****...****しかし、私は知らない。** (I don't know…I know my two friends are planning to as well…but I don't know)," he was hesitant now.

Haruki noticed and scooted closer to Shinji, "**あなたとあなたの友人が持っているどんな過去、ちょうどあなたが三人に対処する必要がどのような調整するために持っている人を覚えておいてください。理解できますか？** (Whatever past you and your friends have, just remember who you have to reconcile whatever you three have to deal with. Understand?)," he reassured his younger brother and Shinji just nodded in agreement.

Haruki went back up his bunk and Shinji just lied there on his bed and looked at the light coming through the window. She noticed a firefly flying inside and landed on the windowsill, fluttering its wings. Shinji heard the insects outside and noticed the firefly flew back outside and felt the night air caressing his left arm. The only two things that kept him awake and simultaneously helping him fall asleep were his beating heart and his breathing. He then turned to his left side to try to get some sleep, and continued to observe the soft light coming through the window until he was dragged in the arms of Morpheus and sleep took hold.

**FRIDAY, 6:03AM**

Shinji woke up and got out of bed. He looked up and noticed his brother was still asleep. He put on his sweatpants and his light sports jacket. He stretched a bit and headed for the front door to put on his running shoes. He closed the door behind him and made sure his house keys stayed in his pocket. Once at the street, he began his morning jog, letting the thoughts of opening up to his family seeped back into his mind while at the same time, focusing solely on the running. Passing homes, a few of them where his classmates lived and continued his way until he reached the school, that was a mile from his home. He ran around the school property and knew there was summer school for those who failed few of their classes from the previous semester, and glad he didn't.

After running around the school, he headed back home and encountered a sight he didn't expect to see…a high school senior with a blue aura surrounding his body as he warmed up outside of his house. He glanced up and looked at Shinji who continued jogging home. The sight brought back memories of Wilfredo and his abilities, but he decided not to dwell on it right now. Instead he'll talk about it with his American friend and colleague later in the day. Sweat dripped down his back and neck, cooling him while warming up, _'__**少なくともそれは今ホットではありません。**__(At least it isn't hot right now.),' _he thought.

By the time he reached home, he noticed his brother also in his jogging sweats faced Shinji while jogging in place, "**ユー****·****ワナは、後でいくつかの動きを練習をしていますか？ **(Do you wanna practice some moves later.)," he asked, hoping for a friendly spar pitting his own skills in Judo and Shinji's Krav Maga.

Shinji grinned, "**ことを確認してください。多分私はこの時間をあなたのお尻を蹴ります。** (Sure. Maybe I'll kick your ass this time.)," he smirked and Haruki smirked, "**うん、男の夢を見続ける。** (Yeah, keep dreaming dude.)," he laughed a bit and jogged passed Shinji to do his workout. Shinji headed inside and noticed his parents still asleep so he took off his shoes at the front door and headed for his room. He grabbed a towel, a pair of boxers, shorts, and a light blue t-shirt and headed for the bathroom for a refreshing shower.

**I'm never doing six countries in one chapter again! EVER! **

**Okay had to get that out of my system. But seriously, I think my ambition got the best of me here so I'm not that confident in what I wrote here. But I promise, for the next chapter, only four countries will be presented: The US, Argentina, Germany, and Japan. And it will come a lot sooner than this did. Four weeks of writing and editing, as well as fighting writer's block and working on a chapter for arc two ahead of time can really exhaust a person (won't tell you much about it, but it's a collaboration with another writer. You'll just have to wait a few more months' people). But whatever, I can handle it! **

**Another's note: the revelation of Cecilia and Fatma's abilities was the best I can do. Trying to avoid the usual clichés on new abilities, but maybe a few slipped through the cracks. Their importance to the others with similar abilities will be fleshed out in chapter seven and in '2007'. So again, be patient. I will make it good.**

**Anyway, read, review, critique and see you guys in chapter five. I thank HolyDragoon for the Portuguese as best as he could since Cecilia is Brazilian and HolyDragoon isn't. Different dialects so both of us apologize ahead of time. And Fatma is speaking Farsi while Ahmed is speaking Arabic. I also tried to use certain Argentine phrasing for Dante. So there it is in a nutshell. Oh and the piece by Caldara, I recommend listening to the rendition by Akademie der Alte Musik-Berlin. And as for the piece by Biber, listen to the rendition by Musicia Antiqua Koln.**


	5. September 2006

**LES MUSICIENS**

**2006**

**A CROSSOVER STORY**

**This chapter was largely inspired by a piece of music called, "Gekkoh" by Susumu Yokota. Also inspired by the song "****Ó**** Gente Da Minha Terra" sung by Mariza.**

**This chapter is far less overreaching than the previous chapter. For one thing, it won't cover six countries during the duration of one day. Second, I've leveled it to about four countries this time, focusing on the principal characters from '2005'; namely, the former Children, Danny and his friends and the four key musicians from the orchestra, with Mohammad Moradi the center point of upcoming events.**

**Ultimately dealing with what they witnessed in Lebanon while confronting ignorance and intolerance. Quite possibly one of the heaviest chapters in this story, since delving into this territory is dangerous and I could potentially upset a lot of you readers out there. So for that, I apologize ahead of time, it's only for the sake of the storyline.**

**SEPTEMBER 2006, WEEK TWO**

**MONDAY, 12:42PM**

"Do you think Mohammad is going to come today? Because he was gone last Friday," Alberto asked Zane, both walking from their American Government class. Due to the heat wave, he wore a white shirt and brown cargo pants with white sneakers.

Zane sighed, "God knows. He sent an email to me via our website and said he had to attend a conference at the university with his wife and daughter," he explained and Alberto listened while Zane continued, "But what I do know is that he's going to push us when we're going to rehearse Heinichen later this afternoon."

Alberto groaned, "Oh no! Why! I mean. I love the music enough, that's why I'm still in the orchestra, but what the hell man! The pieces are getting too hard and it's taking us longer to go through rehearsals just to get the phrasing and tempo right," he said exhaustedly and just wanted lunch at that point.

Zane was about to add to his frustration in keeping up with their professor's demands, two juniors rudely brushed passed them, "Move it losers," the two blondes laughed and the two musicians kept their anger in check. They made their way to the cafeteria to meet up Wilfredo and Gilberto, even Danny and his friends in order to get federally provided school lunches. Zane wore his black Slayer shirt with blue jeans and Converse sneakers.

**CHAPTER FIVE**

**AMITY HIGH, 3:25PM**

**PHILADELPHIA, PA, US**

Wilfredo got out of his Trigonometry class with Sam and carrying his cello case. Wilfredo wore black jeans with a buttoned white shirt with rolled sleeves and sneakers while Sam wore a black tank top with grey cargo pants and sandals while sporting a gothic choker around her neck.

"Time for more appendage punishment," he half-jokingly said to Sam who cut her hair to the style similar to Mia Farrow from Rosemary's Baby, "I'm going to ignore the double meaning to that statement Wil," she said dryly.

He chuckled, "I'm not the one smacking lips with Danny at the stairs before homeroom," he retorted and she punched his left arm, "Just once and you won't ever let us live it down," she said harshly but with humor.

"I always remember 'life changing moments'. You and Danny doing some heavy PDA just outside of your homeroom is one of them," he said jokingly and Sam laughed to herself. As they walked, they came across Wil's friends shouting at the same two blonds who brushed them before lunch.

Sam and Wilfredo walked up to them and quickly pushed Gilberto, Alberto, and Zane back a few paces. Albeit with a struggle since both sides were just a short fuse lit before a fight broke out. Gilberto wore a Slipknot black shirt with brown cargo shorts and black Nike sneakers.

"Okay guys! Cool it," Sam called out on Wil's friends and he was also equally pissed, "What the hell is going on," he looked at his friends and the two blondes with their three friends from the football team.

"This ass called Moradi a terrorist," Alberto shouted and was about to punch the other guys, but was held back by Wilfredo, "Forget them and let's go to the music room," he said loudly and was about to pick up his cello case.

However, the other teens wouldn't let things be, "Why so you guys can plan terrorist threats," one of them sneered and approached them and Wilfredo stepped forward, "Why don't you just piss off and leave us alone," he intimidated them and one of them did back off.

But the taller one in front of the Portuguese American stood his ground, "I'm just calling things as I see them," he attempted to intimidate Wil, but he stood his ground, "Yeah, calling out things you got from the dumbass media! Oh and I would play the parents card, but that's beneath me," he called out the blonde.

One of the players behind him attempted to talk things done on his friend, "Come on man. Let's go. Coach is going to be on us bad if we're late for practice," he said but his friend ignored him, "I knew it! All of you are just pussies when it comes to being real men," he sneered.

Wilfredo's patience was wearing thin, but he turned around to look at his friends, and especially at Zane who knew his quick temper. So he breathed in and out and faced the blonde idiot.

"Bye guys," he said, trying to sound disinterested and when he picked up his cello case he felt being pushed to the ground and landed on his instrument. He then kicked the guy in the leg, quickly took out a textbook and used it to swing and hit the football player square in the face. He and his friends then were about to rush at the football players, but Zane and Sam held them back. Then they noticed a sight they didn't think they would see; Dash approaching the sophomores and pushed them back.

"What the hell man," the blonde teen asked now mad and confused, "Coach is waiting for us! Move it," Dash called them and all of them knew what would happen if they stood up to him so they relented, but gave nasty glares to the musicians and Sam.

Dash watched his teammates leave and turned around to the others, "…Sorry about that. They can be douchebags," he explained and the musicians nodded silently.

Wilfredo got up and picked up his cello case, "So why are they on the team again," Sam asked, "Best defense our team's ever had," he said and she looked at him.

Dash cleared his throat, "Listen I'm sorry, but I am going to report this to our head coach. Those guys have been on thin ice since last season," he revealed and Zane spoke up, "Yeah we know. They graffiti Mohammad's car windows and all they got was detention," he spoke angrily.

Dash rubbed the back of his head, "That served as a warning, and the other time when they let out the tires of your professor's car, they got two week suspension. Believe me when I say this, my friends and I have never given them the heads up when we found out. Usually, we beat the crap out of them when they do something stupid. It ruins our reputation as one of the leading football teams in Pennsylvania," he explained, trying to save face.

Gilberto spoke up, feeling a bit more respect for Dash, "We understand. But you know…all of us are just trying to get by with Mohammad's workload now. He's getting ambitious about something and…it's exciting and slightly scary you know. Especially since we got back from Lebanon and…well, you've heard the announcement from last week right," he said and Dash nodded.

"Well, you don't need us to tell you. It's on our website and you can watch our posts about that incident," Gilberto added and Alberto cut in, "But what really pisses us off is the shit people like them do when we perform. Either here or at the university," he expressed his anger and annoyance.

Dash looked at them and noticed Danny, Tucker, and Valerie approaching them from behind, "What happened Sam? You didn't answer our texts or IM messages," Tucker said and Danny looked at Dash with a confused and uncertain look.

Since the end of the 2004/2005 academic year things have progressed more smoothly between the jocks and the 'losers' as described by them and the like. Meaning Dash bullied Danny and his friends less, much to his growing maturity and the fear from their new coach that if he caught any news of his players bullying students or failing more than three courses, they would be cut from the team. Their familiar classmates, like Kwan, Star, and Paulina have followed their example. Since all of them are in their junior year of high school, one more year to their senior year and saying goodbye to high school and greeting the real world.

"Some players from the football team came to mess with our friends and Professor Moradi. And as things were going to go down, Dash came in and…well basically, scared the hell out of them with their coach's new policy," Sam explained to her friends and Danny continued to look at Dash.

Valerie spoke up, "Well Dash. Never took you for a good Samaritan," she said but Dash rolled his eyes, "I just don't like assholes like them," he said and Danny cleared his throat, "You were like that remember," he mentioned and Dash made a hard to read expression on his face.

"Yeah…I remember, but I've changed. Whether you guys believe it or not," Dash said and was about to head down the hall until Wilfredo called him out, "Hey," and the blonde turned around, "Thanks man," Wilfredo thanked Dash, "…Yeah," he said rather quietly and walked away.

Sam gave high fives to her musician friends, "Take care guys," she said and they wished her and the others the same thing and she walked down the hall with her friends.

Danny wrapped an arm around Sam's waist with Tucker and Valerie talking about what to do after school for their date. Danny looked behind him, seeing the musicians gather their instruments and headed for the stairway down the hall. He then turned his head around and continued walking with his friends. Also due to the heat wave, Danny wore white shirt, khaki cargo shorts and white sneakers. Tucker had long since updated his wardrobe, with a white long sleeved shirt underneath a light blue sweater vest and dark blue slim fit jeans with sneakers.

Meanwhile, a few moments before, Wilfredo put away his book and picked up his cello case and backpack. He and his three friends walked down the hall for the stairs and when they reached them, Wilfredo briefly looked down the hall to see the disappearing forms of Danny and his friends as they headed home…or ghost fighting, which ever occurred first for them.

**DOWNTOWN, 4:56PM**

The four musicians took an express bus for downtown to get something to eat before their dinner with their families. Nothing much, just a few roast pork sandwiches and soda, something that would distract them from a near beat down.

"So when is our performance again," Alberto asked, "Friday," Zane confirmed, "And I wonder if we should tell the others about what nearly went down here," he added.

Wilfredo looked at him, "Unless they're going through the same shit, I don't think we should," he said and Gilberto disagreed, "What we're just going to ignore this? Come one, might as well write about it on our website," he suggested roughly, knowing the truth will come out to their international friends.

Zane looked at him and crumpled his used sandwich paper, "Yeah…I suppose…" he said and threw the paper to the trash bin but missed, "Damn it."

**BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA**

**TUESDAY, 4:05PM**

Dante had his iPod paused on the song "Backward" by Kode9 + The Spaceape while he and his friend Lionel Hernandez talked to one of the community leaders in one of the **villas** of Buenos Aires. Dante held up his Leica camera and took pictures to post on his orchestra's website to show the other part of his home city, away from the picturesque tourist places and show how there is still a huge gap between the rich and the poor.

Lionel Hernandez can be described as the standard school flirt, hitting on pretty girls that come across him. A lean, fit guy who belongs to the school's rugby team and stands shoulder to shoulder with Dante in terms of height, 5'10''. He has dirty blond hair with blue eyes and a tan that make most girls fall for him. Dante didn't know how the two become friends, however, since his start in Buenos Aires, he's been helpful and overall a good friend. Due to the cold weather, Dante dressed in his black leather jacket with a grey sweater underneath, Adidas sneakers and dark blue skinny jeans. While Lionel dressed in a blue sports coat, with a black buttoned shirt underneath, white jeans and also wore Puma sneakers.

"**Che!** (Hey!)," Lionel called out Dante and he looked away from his camera's direction, "**¿Qué? **(What?)," he asked, "**¿Qué debemos poner en esa página web suya?** (What should we put in that website of yours?)," Lionel asked, considering he wasn't an advent writer but a brilliant cellist.

Dante thought about it for a moment and looked at some of the unfinished buildings they were passing while noticing the people doing their grocery shopping and buying or selling merchandise, "**Sabes las barras metálicas sobre los tejados?** (You know the metal bars on the rooftops?)," he pointed upwards and Lionel along with the community organizer, "**Sí.** (Yeah.)," Lionel responded, not knowing where this was going.

Dante gave his response, "**Significan, "Tengo esperanza '. Porque no la terminado y cuando usted consigue bastante dinero, se construye otro piso.** (They mean, 'I have hope'. Because its not finished and when you get enough money, you build another floor.)," he said and the organizer smiled, "**No es una mala metáfora.** (Not a bad metaphor.)," he said and Dante waved it off good-naturedly.

They continued to walk and discuss the situation of living and electing officials to represent the barrios, knowing how some politicians would rather not deal with the problem of economic disparity. He even had some classmates from school that thought he was mad for going to the barrios, convinced of the bad reputation the area was known for. Dante ignored them and asked his friend Lionel to join him, who also asked his girlfriend, Maricel to join them, but she couldn't make it due to her doctor's appointment.

After fifteen minutes or so, the community organizer invited them to his community center and the two accepted. Once inside, they noticed some kids doing arts and crafts while the older members played chess. Upstairs was the gym free of charge and downstairs was the basement that also served as a place for the local teenagers to host venues during the weekends and on Fridays. Lionel and Dante asked if they could explore the basement and the man agreed, also stating that there were young people down there already listening to music, playing pool and various games.

Lionel and Dante headed downstairs and saw maybe 25 people their age or bit younger just hanging. There was even a TV where some were watching a movie and five playing pool while the rest sat around and talked loudly, not noticing the two boys getting sodas and sitting at a lone table and started talking. With Dante mentioning Maricel and Lionel ball busting him for flirting with her and being called out on actually flirting with her when he knew she was Lionel's girl. Dante waved it off and opened his soda, as did Lionel.

Lionel sighed, "**Dante, ¿puedo preguntarte algo?** (Dante, can I ask you something?)," he asked curiously and Dante looked at him, "**Claro.** (Sure.)," he replied.

Lionel looked at him, "**¿Cree que su conductor Mohammad Moradi aceptaría alguien como yo para unirse a la orquesta? **(Do you think your conductor, Mohammad Moradi would accept someone like me to join the orchestra?)," he asked, and Dante looked at him strangely, "**¿Qué quieres decir con eso? **(What do you mean by that?)"

"**Bueno, cuando me conecté al sitio Web de la orquesta, la mayoría de ustedes parecen una orquesta completa, incluso con unos pocos miembros internacionales de ... así que, me pregunto?** (Well, when I logged onto your orchestra's website, most of you seem to be a complete orchestra even with a few international members…so, I was wondering?)," he explained and Dante drank more of his soda.

"**Pues no es como Mohammad ha parado el proceso selectivo. Dependiendo del curso académico, con los graduados, o músicos que salen de algunos, debido a las malas calificaciones o la falta de interés ... no, yo no creo que hay un problema para enviar un video de audición.** (Well, its not like Mohammad has stopped the selective process. Depending on the academic year, with the seniors graduating, or certain musicians leaving due to poor grades or lack of interest…no I don't think there's a problem to send an audition video.)," Dante explained.

Lionel's eyes brightened a bit at the news, "**Eso es genial! Pensé que no lo haría debido a que es una orquesta de . (**That's great! I thought I wouldn't due to it being a US orchestra.)," he said and Dante looked at him, "**Es una orquesta de ., pero con un enfoque más internacional. **(It is a US orchestra, but with a more international focus.)," he said, "**Me di cuenta de sus espectáculos y la propia orquesta. Muy diversa. **(I noticed from your performances and the orchestra itself. Very diverse.)," Lionel added.

Then Lionel looked at him with a serious expression, "**¿Por qué crees que hay gente que se encuentran de la clase tu situación particular? **(Why do you think there are some people in class who find your situation peculiar?)," he asked and Dante shrugged his shoulders, "**No se. Tal vez las diferencias de tiempo entre nosotros y con nuestra próxima actuación desde viernes ... me estoy cansando sólo pensarlo.** (I don't know. Maybe the time differences between us and with our next performance on Friday…I'm getting tired just thinking about it.)," he explained.

"**¿Qué significa? **(Meaning?)," Lionel urged him to explain and Dante sighed, "**Recuerda cómo casi se metió en una pelea con el pelotudo en la escuela? (**Remember how we almost got into a fight with the idiot at school?)," he asked and his friend nodded knowingly, "**Llamó a uno gay, sólo porque vos tocas el clavicordio en lugar de un instrumento como la guitarra eléctrica.** (He called you gay, just because you play the harpsichord rather than an instrument like the electric guitar.)," Lionel brought up the memory.

"**Pienso que fue porque casi no salgo con las chicas de la escuela. Sin embargo, gracias por señalarlo también.** (I think it was because I hardly go out with the girls from school. But thanks for pointing that out as well.)," Dante said semi-rhetorically, "**Lo siento.** (I'm sorry.)," Lionel apologized but Dante waved it off, "**No se preocupe. Non importa.** (Don't worry about it. Not important.)," and finished his soda in one gulp.

"**¿Puedo preguntar por qué no se va con las chicas de nuestra escuela? No es que estoy sugiriendo que nada, pero ... es un poco curioso que un tipo como vos con las chicas le pregunta si está disponible, cortésmente rechazarlas. ¿Por qué es eso? **(Can I ask why don't you go out with the girls at our school? Not that I'm suggesting anything, but…it's a little peculiar that a guy like you with girls asking if you're available you politely turn them down. Why is that?)," Lionel asked wanting to know his friend's thought process.

Dante looked at his friend, "**No soy tan interesado en salir ahora. Con la orquesta y la escuela, estoy muerto de cansancio sobre todo en el momento que llego a casa.** (I'm not that interested in dating right now. With the orchestra and school, I'm mostly dead tired by the time I get home.)," Lionel was about to mention Fatma but Dante beat him to it, "**Y no menciono Fatma. Ella y yo tenemos una gran amistad en estos momentos. Eso es todo.** (And don't mention Fatma. She and I have a great friendship right now. That's all.)," he defended himself.

Lionel smirked at him and Dante gave up, knowing he wouldn't be believed anyway. After finishing up their sodas they got up and headed upstairs to leave and thanking the community organizer for his time. After that, Lionel and Dante headed for the bus. From there they will take separate buses for their homes, but for now on the bus, they observed life, taking place outside.

"**Si conseguimos unas empanadas antes de que nos ir a casa? O tal vez un morcipan?** (Should we get some empanadas before we go home? Or maybe a morcipan?)," Dante asked, "**Claro, tengo hambre.** (Sure, I'm hungry.)," Lionel agreed to their shot stop.

**PALERMO, 4:50PM**

After fifteen minutes of riding the bus, they got off, "There's a guy there. Come on," Lionel said and both boys headed for one of the street vendors to get their food. They sat on the ledge of the fountain nearby and ate their food, but the two then noticed their friends from school coming towards them. They ordered their food as well and talked until every last scrap of food was digested.

During their moment together, they talked about what to do tomorrow and in advance what to do over the weekend. However, the racy topic on what happened recently with the ignorant bigot at school, it was still fresh in their minds and got to know Dante's mood disorder over the last school year. He was their peculiar friend and they were his new life, he appreciated it, but still disturbed by the level of ignorance still around, especially with not just the issue of sexual orientation but what he and his friends abroad have to deal with as they grow older in this world, the fear of difference and change.

After a while, all of them said their goodbyes and headed home. Dante headed for the express bus route to head back home, knowing his parents would arrive home in two hours or so. Along the way, he looked over his textbook for his Physics course and wrote mental notes, on a subject that once defined his life and a future career in the European Space Agency after Second Impact. Now, only a high school course balancing out his new life with period ensemble…the irony of it didn't escape him.

**HAMBURG, GERMANY**

**WEDNESDAY, 5:12PM**

Asuka walked around downtown with her friend Eda Kraemer and they noticed flyers that had their origins from the UK holding meetings at a rented conference room at an office building in the coming days, with statements dripping with racist opinions on Islam and on Muslims.

"**Ich dachte, das Land würde nicht zulassen, Scheiße wie dieses Passes.** (I thought this country wouldn't let shit like this pass.)," Asuka sighed at the flyer posted on the lamp post, "**Nun, um für unsere Sünden zu sühnen Vergangenheit, nehme ich an die Regierung erlaubt dies aus Gründen der Toleranz.** (Well, in order to atone for our past sins, I suppose the government allowed this on grounds of tolerance.)," Eda said as she too sighed after reading the flyer and the two continued walking.

"**Da ist Toleranz und Akzeptanz da ist. Und ich hasse das erstere.** (There's tolerance and there's acceptance. And I hate the former.)," Asuka commented and her friend looked at her, "**Warum?** (Why?)," Eda asked, "**Weil Toleranz nicht loswerden Unwissenheit. **(Because tolerance doesn't get rid of ignorance.)," she pointed behind her referring to the flyer.

Eda adjusted her backpack strap, "**Da Madrid und London, ist Europa immer mehr paranoid. Aber für uns sind die Engländer mehr auf vulgäre Ausdruck ihrer Islamophobie. Mit Krawallen und dem Wegwerfen speichert und gezielt Menschen in den Straßen**. (Since Madrid and London, Europe's been getting more paranoid. But for us, the English are more vulgar on expressing their Islamophobia. With riots and trashing stores and targeting people in the streets.)," she said, but Asuka disagreed.

"**Aber das gilt nur für die paar Idioten in London. Man kann nicht wirklich zu platzieren Fehler auf einer ganzen Bevölkerung.** (But that only applies to the few idiots in London. You can't really place fault on an entire population.)," Asuka reasoned and Eda defended herself, "**Natürlich! Ich bin nur hier, meine Perspektive. Und Vergleich zu jenen paar Idioten in der Schule, die diese türkisches Mädchen beim Mittagessen ausgerichtet. **(Of course! I'm just giving my perspective here. And comparing this to those few idiots at school who targeted that Turkish girl at lunch.)"

Asuka looked at her, recounting what occurred at lunch when two boys tripped a Muslim Turkish girl and called her degrading names. Then Asuka along with Eda went over to help her up and kicked the guys asses.

Eda looked at her and sighed, "**Können wir nicht viel über es jetzt tun. Und wenn diese Idioten uns gezielt in der Schule in den nächsten Tagen, oder sogar während der Rest des Semesters ... zumindest wir beide wissen, dass wir immer noch in den Arsch zu treten, sondern müssen ein Auge auf die Fakultät zu halten. Falls sie sind überzeugt, dass wir den Kampf begonnen.** (Not much we can do about it now. And if those idiots target us at school in the next few days, or even during the rest of the semester…at least we both know that we can still kick their ass, but have to keep an eye on the faculty. In case they are convinced that we started the fight.)," she said and Asuka dismissed that possibility, "**Ich glaube nicht. Da sie wissen, dass wir beide zu den besten Schülern in der Schule sind, würden sie wissen, dass wir nicht den Kampf beginnen. Plus, würden unsere Freunde zu uns mit ihren Sichtweisen, wenn von der Fakultät in Frage gestellt. **(I don't think so. Since they know that both of us are among the best students in school, they would know we didn't start the fight. Plus, our friends would back us up with their points of view when questioned by the faculty.)," she explained.

Eda felt relieved and both continued to walk. They reached a tram stop and hitched a ride; "**Willst du irgendwo essen, bevor wir nach Hause fahren?** (Want to eat somewhere before we head home?)," Eda offered, "**Sicher. Haben Sie nichts Besseres zu tun.** (Sure. Got nothing better to do.)," Asuka replied half sarcastically.

On the tram, Asuka reflected on her best friend Eda Kraemer. Like her, both were driven and talented. Eda was a viola player, but her true talent lied in her writing, and in this case, writing for the school's blog newly set up by the students themselves. She was one of the founders of the site and she provides the updates on the new music coming in from several urban centers across Germany and from abroad, but she also writes on the increasing danger of paranoia against Muslims in Europe and in particular in Northern Europe, since the murder of a prominent filmmaker in Holland two years prior.

Both stood at the same height, and Eda has short light brown hair with almond shaped green eyes. Since today was a rather warm day, she wore blue jeans with a black tube top, fashionable without showing too much skin and sported Converse sneakers. Asuka also wore something similar, but wore a red tube top with the Metallica log, a black skirt that reached her knees and dark blue low heels. As they rode for ten minutes, they got off at their stop, "**Ich bin ein Döner Begierde! Was ist mit dir?** (I'm craving a shawarma! How about you.)," Eda asked, "**Sicher.** (Sure.)," Asuka replied and both headed for a Turkish place down the street.

Once inside, thankful for the air conditioning, they ordered their shawarmas, Eda's was beef while Asuka's was lamb. Both got Cokes and waited for their food to arrive, "**Asuka, darf ich Sie etwas fragen?** (Asuka, may I ask you something?)," Eda asked as she opened her can, "**Gehen Sie voran.** (Go ahead)," Asuka replied as she also opened her can and took a sip.

Eda took a swig of her soda and looked at her, "**Wann ist Ihre nächste Aufführung?** (When is your next performance?)," she asked, "**An diesem Freitag um 04.50 am. **(This Friday around 4:50am.)," Asuka explained and even though Eda knows her weekly routine that varies each month, she still finds this orchestral arrangement jaw dropping.

"**Und die anderen Mitglieder daran teilnehmen, unabhängig von ihrer Zeitzonen. Ich finde dies schwer zu fassen. Normale Menschen würden einfach werfen ihre Hände in die Luft und geben auf.** (And the other members have to participate, regardless of their time zones. I still find this hard to grasp. Normal people would simply throw their hands in the air and give up.)," Eda once again pointed out the audacious life Asuka was now part of, "**Nun Eda, ich bin nicht normal. **(Well Eda, I'm not normal.)," she grinned with restrained pride and Eda shook her head chuckling.

"**Ich noch sagen, du bist verrückt. **(I still say you're insane.)," Eda then looked at her, "**Aber ich liebe dich immer noch.** (But I still love you.)," she said knowingly and Asuka sighed, "**Und Ich liebe dich auch, du Verrücktes Weibchen.** (And I love you too, you crazy bitch.)," and both laughed.

Both continued eating and Eda again brought up the subject of Asuka's orchestra, "**Und ich muss diese fragen ... war es eine Diskriminierung, wenn Sie beteiligte sich erstmals im vergangenen Jahr?** (And I have to ask this…was there any discrimination when you first participated in it last year?)"

Asuka looked up as she took a bite of her food. She swallowed and wiped her mouth, "**Keiner bei uns pro gerichtet sagen. Aber es gibt Zeiten, in denen meine amerikanischen Freunde sagen würden einige Vandalen würden Graffiti auf Moradi die Autotüren-Tag mit ihren Schlüsseln. Und wie für sie, würden sie versuchen, brechen Kämpfe, aber sie meistens ignorieren diese Idioten.** (None directed at us per say. But there are times when my American friends would say some vandals would tag graffiti on Moradi's car doors with their keys. And as for them, they would try to break up fights, but they mostly ignore those idiots.)," Asuka explained and continued, "**Aber wenn ich mich, zusammen mit Dante und Shinji gab es im letzten Jahr ... nicht viel davon passiert. Obwohl, ich weiß, gab es einige Eltern, die etwas unangenehm waren, die eine talentierte Orchester durch einen libanesischen Mann führte. **(But when myself, along with Dante and Shinji were there last year…not much of that happened. Although, I know there were some parents who were slightly uncomfortable having a talented orchestra led by a Lebanese man.)," she chuckled, "**Lustig in meinem Kopf und zur gleichen Zeit, traurig.** (Funny in my mind and at the same time, sad.)"

Eda finished her food and soda, now looking at Asuka who only had a bit of food left to finish, "**Auf jeden Fall bin ich froh, ein Orchester wie das, du bist ein Teil vorhanden ist. Einige Hoffnung für den Rest von uns.** (In any case, I'm glad an orchestra like the one you're a part of exists. Some hope for the rest of us.)," she said in an almost deadpan fashion, but she was serious regardless, "**Dank nehme ich an. Und wir führen eine Stück von Johann David Heinichen, falls Sie sich wundern.** (Thanks I suppose. And we are performing a piece by **Johann David Heinichen** in case you're wondering.)," Asuka replied in an exhausted tone.

"**Und wann wird es auf Ihrer Website veröffentlicht?** (And when will it be posted on your website?)," Eda asked, "**Möglicherweise am Sonntag oder Montag.** (Possibly on Sunday or Monday.)," Asuka replied and finished her last bite of food.

**HARBURG, 5:57PM**

She entered her home and noticed Pascal looking over papers he needed to bring to a conference tomorrow. He noticed her coming home, "**Hallo Asuka. Deine Mutter ist zu Hause ein bisschen spät kommt und sie erzählte mir, um über dich wachen, bis sie nach Hause kommt. **(Hello Asuka. Your mother is coming home a bit late and she told me to watch over you until she gets home.)," Pascal explained.

Asuka grinned a bit, "**Okay und da man ihr Verlobter, bis nächsten Monat Zeremonie im Rathaus sind, haben Sie bereits hier leben, wann immer Sie beide allein sind, und glaube nicht, ich bin mir nicht bewusst einige Geräusche von Zeit zu Zeit.** (Okay and since you're her fiancé until next month's ceremony at city hall, you already live here whenever you two are alone and don't think I'm not aware of some noises from time to time.)," she said with a growing smirk now.

Pascal was a bit flustered but kept his relative cool, "**Du weißt, du bist zu gut für die eigene Langley abzustumpfen. **(You know, you're too blunt for your own good Langley.)," he said with a grin and she chuckled a bit and made her way upstairs, "**Ich habe Hausaufgaben zu machen und gehen über die Musik der Gäste ein letztes Mal für Freitag.** (I've got homework to do and go over the music score one last time for Friday)," she said.

Pascal looked at the stairs where she was going up, "**Ich finde es eigenartig, dass Sie und die anderen sind nicht Ihre Anordnung zur Durchführung Ihrer Musik verändert.** (I still find it peculiar that you and the others haven't changed your arrangement for performing your music.)," he called out and Asuka replied at the top of the stairs, "**Merkwürdig ist es, was mir erzählt Eda in der Innenstadt.** (Strange, that's what Eda told me in downtown.)," she said light heartedly with her brand of dry humor. Pascal laughed lightly and resumed to prepare for his upcoming conference.

Asuka closed the door behind her and threw her stuff on the bed. She looked around and collapsed on the bed, "**Ich bin so erschöpft.** (I'm so exhausted.)," she said quietly as she rested for a few minutes until she got up and started on her work.

**KYOTO, JAPAN**

**FRIDAY, 12:32PM**

**SAKYO-KU WARD**

Shinji heard the bell rang and the students stood up and bowed at their departing teacher as the nearly forty-minute lunch break began. He gathered his stuff, along with his cello and headed out of the classroom. His friends followed, and some of the classmates looked on with curious expressions.

Shinji in his summer/fall uniform resembled his old uniform from his days in the world affected by Second Impact. But now, he had his hair tied in a ponytail, and his jacket unbuttoned, he felt better than before, except for an incident from earlier in the week.

_When he and his friends went to downtown via the train, they headed for the area populated by Koreans and Chinese. They wanted to get Korean barbeque, and one block away from their favorite restaurant, they noticed some boys a grade ahead of them assaulting a boy their age and shouting taunts and slurs about his apparent Korean heritage. Shinji and his friends went to them and broke it up, but one of the boys punched Shinji on his left side of his face. He staggered and he noticed his friends attempting to tackle the bastard to the ground. Shinji regained his stance and broke it up immediately, shouting at the idiot senior and at his friends for their behavior. The seniors know they didn't want to mess with them and left. The Korean Japanese guy got up and thanked them for stopping the assault._

Shinji and his friends headed upstairs for the music room and met the professor who after a year, gave him full access for his orchestral performance, "**部屋のあなたの若い男。 **(The room's yours young man.)," he said with a grin, "**あなたの先生に感謝します。** (Thank you sir.)," Shinji thanked him with a slight bow and entered following his friends. The professor observed the now familiar sight of one of his students about to perform another brilliant piece of music. He thought to himself as he observed young students set up the equipment and took his seat at his desk and ate his lunch.

His friends helped him set up the high-resolution digital camera to his laptop and Shinji tuned his instrument, "**私は私の友人が今オンラインになっていると思います。** (I hope my friends are online right now.)," he said as he sat down and bowed the strings as he logged onto his orchestra's website.

Takeshi, a friend of his with an athletic build and his school jacket tied around his waist, helped set up the microphone on its stand and it hanged over Shinji, "**あなたは今日実行しているものを作品？ **(What piece you're performing today?)," he asked and Shinji looked up at him as he finished tuning his instrument, "**ヨハンデヴィッド****·****ハイニヒェンによって****F****長調の協奏曲。 **(**Concerto in F Major** by **Johann David Heinichen.)**," he revealed and took out his sheet music, showing the papers to his friend.

Takeshi along with another classmate, Kenji who sported glasses but not the average nerd many associate with the stereotype, "**シンジくそ！これは複雑に見えます！私は、あなたや他の人がこれを処理する方法を知らない！ **(Damn Shinji! This looks complicated! I don't know how you and the others can handle this!)," Takeshi exclaimed, "**彼は正しいです。これは、このオフを引っ張ることは困難に見える。** (He's right. This looks difficult to pull this off)," Kenji asked as he handed Shinji back the musical score.

Shinji took back his music and placed them on the music staff, "**私は自分自身を知らない。私は今、二週間は、このリハーサルをしました、我々は最善の結果を期待することができます。 **(I don't know myself. I've rehearsed this for two weeks now and we can only hope for the best.)," he explained and the music professor spoke up, "**あなたはうまくやるよ。限り、あなたはリハーサルしています。** (You'll do fine. As long you have rehearsed.)," and Shinji looked at him with an abashed smile and finished arranging out his music for easy reading and access.

His other friend, Haruhi, a schoolgirl who reminded him of Asuka without the overly aggressive behavior and obvious European features noticed few windows popping up, waiting for Shinji to open, "**シンジ、あなたの友人がオンラインです。** (Shinji, your friends are online.)," she brought him to pay attention to the monitor.

"**すばらしい！** (Great!)," he exclaimed and opened the windows, relieved to see Asuka, Dante, and his American friends, but slightly grimaced at their tired expressions, "…Hi guys," he greeted.

"There's nothing to say hi about," Asuka said and yawned, "I'm getting a bit tired with this arrangement. And to make things worse, just getting over my period," she said.

"That's something we didn't need to hear," Dante grimaced and felt his eyes were about to close but cracked his neck, "I'm ready on my end so the sooner we do this the better. This has not been a good week for me," he mentioned.

Asuka looked at him, "Same here, had to dealt with some assholes," she said with a frustrated expression, "What a coincidence, so did we," Wilfredo responded and Zane appeared on screen, "Had to deal with some racist bigots," he revealed.

"Same here," Asuka said, "And I had to deal with some who are self-conscious about their orientation, let me put it lightly today," Dante revealed. As Shinji heard this, and as his friends behind him and to his side read the translated text on screen, he sighed.

"And my friends and I dealt with some seniors who were beating up just because he wasn't purely Japanese," he revealed and his friends looked at him with grimaced looks, "No matter where we are, there's always something," Zane asked rhetorically, no answer was needed.

Shinji then noticed Mohammad Moradi approaching on the screen and his friends parted to allow him to communicate, "Shinji, how are you today," he asked with a friendly grin, "Fine thank you," he responded and readied his instrument.

"Alright then," he went away from the screen and went up stage to meet his orchestra, "Everybody ready," he called out and he, along with Dante and Asuka were ready. There other friends, Ahmed and Fatma were ready as soon as they logged on and apologized for their tardiness. Mohammad forgave them and the two quickly greeted their other international friends. Cecilia wasn't present during this performance, due to a lack of moments for drumming or singing.

Mohammad raised his arms and the piece began…

After the piece finished, he bid his goodbyes to his friends and watched the screens go black and bearing the words: User(s) logged off.

With some time left before heading back to class, he got out his lunch and began eating with his friends. The music professor for the classroom had to leave to use the restroom down the hall, leaving the teens to eat and talk…

"**再び、今日は素晴らしかった。** (Again, you were great today.)," Kenji complimented Shinji, "**それはクールだった、私はこの曲に入るために始めている。特にあなたたちはそれを実行する方法である。** (It was cool, and I'm starting to get into this music. Especially with how you guys perform it.)," Takeshi said with a mouthful of food.

Haruhi rolled her eyes at Takeshi and turned to Shinji, "**あなたが知っている、私は思っていた。なぜあなたは、学校のオーケストラに参加しませんか？あなたは才能だとあなたは本当に私たちのチェロプレーヤーの一つや二つを教えることができます。私は正直私なら、彼らは吸う。** (You know, I was wondering. Why don't you join the school's orchestra? You're talented and you could really teach our cello players a thing or two. They suck if I'm honest.)," she said and Shinji laughed a bit.

"**私はしたいが、今、私のオーケストラ私の人生の大きな部分と、別のちょうどより多くのリハーサルで私を殺す参加。そして、私は放課後弓道三回の練習をしているは言うまでもありません。ありがとうしかし****...****いや地獄。** (I want to, but with my orchestra a huge part of my life now, joining another would just kill me with more rehearsals. And not to mention I'm practicing Kyudo three times after school. Thanks but…hell no.)," he explained and his friends chuckled a bit at their friend.

When the first bell rang nearly twenty minutes later, they packed up their bento boxes and gathered their things. Shinji adjusted his ponytail and grabbed his cello case as they left the classroom. They made their way back down to their classroom and sat at their desks. Over the past year, he noticed how some students were supportive of his orchestral work, but there were also those students, and even some teachers who didn't like what he was doing; feeling that he was getting preferential treatment or being too selfish for not participating in their orchestra. But he didn't care, he knew what he wanted to do and knew what was right for him and knew his friends, both at home and abroad would agree with him.

Then the second bell rang and their class began once again.

**This was another chapter that was somewhat hard to pin down. Mostly for the somewhat heavy theme of ignorance, hate, and the cloud of violence that wasn't necessarily present, but hanged over the orchestra like the harsh summer sun. Only two chapters left for this second story of arc one, and they are somewhat, gender based. The next chapter will be revolved around the male members of the orchestra and Danny. The final chapter will revolve around the female members and how they deal with their lives, and at the same time one cameo appearance of the Campa boy, and his revelation of his first name.**

**Read, review, critique and see you in chapter six.**


	6. October 2006

**LES MUSICIENS**

**2006**

**A CROSSOVER STORY**

**This chapter was inspired by a track called "Mikansei Love Story (Incomplete Love Story)" from the ****Ghost in the Shell: Stand Alone Complex**** soundtrack, composed by Yoko Kanno. The second is "Fortune Cookie" from the soundtrack to the film ****Stay****. The third and final piece that also inspired this chapter is "En Mi/Soledad" by Campo from the 2002 album for the Bajofondo Tango Club. Three pieces of music from differing sources, giving light to three different modes of thought expressed by the characters in this chapter. **

**This chapter will mainly focus on the male protagonists of the story: Ahmed, Dante, Danny along with Wilfredo, and Shinji. Yes, a boys chapter, but as with anything in my stories, more grounded and introspective. After the last chapter, this will be slightly lighthearted, but ultimately the same internal uncertainty on where they live and why they've made the choices they have made in life. More into what happened to them as children, but not overly so, more like their anchors to their pasts they need to let go off, while enjoying their lives in the process.**

**And for you readers out there, a question to ponder: What does it mean to be a young man?**

**CHAPTER SIX**

**OCTOBER 2006, WEEK TWO**

At a local neighborhood mosque, Ahmed was praying with the other men in the room alongside his father. His mother was with the other women behind the men, according to Islamic customs of prayer. As a kid, he never really understood why certain things were allowed when other things weren't. But now, since he was at an age that thought of college more and more, he was more inclined to think more and question more.

But today he had other things on his mind, like talking to a girl from his class after service, Nayla Hammoud. She's a friend of his for nearly four years now, and one of many girls in his school who doesn't really speak Arabic in school. When the two first met, she didn't speak Arabic at all, and would respond either in English or in French, so he would tutor her and since then, she's able to speak fluently. Her mother is French while her father is Lebanese. Syrine is a professor of French and comparative literature while her father, Ghassan is a professor of Arab Studies, both teach at the American University of Beirut. And on a side note, he's become infatuated with her, and her position as the second lead speaker in the school's debate club, normally speaking on her subject of expertise, the issue of ethnicity in the country.

**BEIRUT, LEBANON**

**RAS BEIRUT **

**SATURDAY, 5:23PM**

After prayer, he exited with his parents and just as he was about to go to her house, he spots her in the crowd with her parents. He told his parents he was going to hang out with his friend for a while and he glanced at her, who also told her parents she was going to hang out with him for a while. The parents agreed, but told them to not stay out too late, for safety's sake and the sting of what happened back in July still resonated with everyone present, albeit just another chapter in the country's bloody history.

The two walked through the crowd of people and headed downhill, seeing the ocean in the distance, "كما تعلمون، هناك أوقات كنت سيتوجه بدلا من الشاطئ لقضاء بلدي السبت في المسجد**. **(You know, there are times I would rather head for the beach than spend my Saturday in the mosque.)," Ahmed casually commented as he brushed Nayla's hand with his own, "أراهن الديك سيذهب غاضب إذا تخطيت المسجد**. **(I bet your parents would go livid if you skip mosque.)," she teased him a bit and took of her hijab.

Ahmed chuckled and adjusted his glasses, "**Pas vraiment. Je veux dire, oui nous sommes religieux, mais pas des fanatiques. Il ya certaines choses que nous suivons, et il ya des choses que nous ignorons. **(Not really. I mean, yes we are religious, but not fanatics. There are some things we follow, and there are things we do not.)," he explained himself, "**Je pense que nous en avons parlé déjà, mais il est bon que nous ne parler. (**I think we talked about this already, but its nice we do talk about it.)," Nayla pointed out and both smiled at each other.

Nayla then puts her hijab into her bag, "Tell me Ahmed, what was that piece you performed yesterday," she asked and he looked at her, "Didn't you see the title of the piece on our website," he asked, "I tried, but my internet connection cut out and when I got back to the site, it started where I left off, around the middle of the performance," she explained.

Ahmed rubbed his black hair back abashed and looked at her, glancing at her wavy black hair, dark brown almond shaped eyes and assertive looking tanned beauty, "The piece was nothing special, **Concerto in G Minor op.4 no.12** by **Giovanni Mossi**," he said as he looked down on his brown cargo pants, sandals, and his white shirt with his sleeves rolled up.

"Why wasn't it special," Nayla asked now looking at him, "Well, the piece was interesting, and fun to play with Gilberto, Asuka, and Fatma. But it felt like the piece…wasn't as good as it could've been," Ahmed explained as he sighed.

Nayla found his statement a bit off putting, "But as a violinist and violist, you shouldn't say that," and Ahmed looked at her confounded, "And why not," he asked, "Because who can actually say what's good music to begin with? Shouldn't you be satisfied to play an obscure piece of music," she asked.

Ahmed sighed, "Its not that. Of course I liked performing the piece and I like performing pieces of music not many orchestras in our age group will perform. But, I wish there was color in the piece, throw in a theorbo, or maybe some oboes as well. But no, only four violins, two violas, and the rest is basso continuo," he revealed his slight discontent, "As the Americans would say, I didn't really feel the music."

Nayla shook her head, chuckling a bit and both found themselves at a corner café and both sat down while the traffic passed by in a flurry of cars, scooters and trucks. They ordered tea and waited to be served and Ahmed opted to pay today, since Nayla paid last time. They observed the street life before them, making random comments or just saying whatever came to mind to pass the time until their tea arrived.

As Ahmed sipped his tea, he took fruitful glances at Nayla, who just got a text from someone and texted back. In his mind, he was debating something he's been thinking about for quite some time now, ever since last year…whether or not to ask her out on a date. He took off his glasses and cleaned them with a napkin placed on the table. Once he checked his glasses to see his handiwork, he focused on Nayla.

"نايلة، لدي سؤال أن يسأل**. **(Nayla, I have a question to ask.)," he began and she set down her cup of tea, just as she was about to have a sip, "تأكد، والمضي قدما**. **(Sure, go ahead.)," she gave him the green light. Ahmed breathed in and out and then looked at her once more, who only waited for him to ask his question.

"نايلة **... **وأتساءل عما إذا كنت ترغب في خرجت على موعد مع لي؟ (Nayla…I was wondering if you would like to got out on a date with me?)," he asked but the words came out slightly low in tone and a little mumbled, "أنا آسف**. **ماذا؟ (I'm sorry. What?)," she asked and he sighed again, "Would you go out with me? I like you, a lot. And…I was wondering if you would…you know," he started to ramble and felt like an idiot and very embarrassed.

Nayla was surprised and brushed some of her hair from her eyes as a car passed by, "Wow…Ahmed…sure," her last word caught Ahmed's attention, "What," he asked. He wanted to hear those words.

She smiled, "Yes, I want to go on a date with you. I mean, I do like you and well…sure. Why not," she agreed and Ahmed restrained himself from jumping around like Tom Cruise did on Oprah last year on her show. Zane sent him a link from YouTube and he laughed his ass off. Now, he felt like he was on the other side of the wall.

Now, he laughed nervously, grateful and excited that she said yes, "Great! I mean, cool," he composed himself and she laughed. He blushed but he didn't care. The two drank their teas and began talking a while longer, now feeling it more like a date and flirting than an outing between friends. After they finished their teas, they walked around a bit, holding hands this time, "**Nous allons aller à la plage.** (Let's head for the beach.)," Ahmed suggested, "**Bon, je me sens comme mouiller mes pieds de toute façon. **(Okay, I feel like wetting my feet anyway.)," Nayla agreed and both took the bus and headed down the avenue and in a matter of minutes, due to the not so heavy traffic today, they arrived at the beach.

They took off their sneakers, rolled up their pants into makeshift shorts and walked briskly over the still warm sand. Once they reached the water, Nayla walked in it and pretty soon, started to put her hands in it, took a handful of ocean water and have it pour gently through her hair. Ahmed looked on grinning, he too standing ankle deep in the sea. He liked how she looked, especially with the setting sun adjacent to her kneeling down and as she stood, the rays of the sun cast her front in the shadow while highlighting the outline of her hair. Then as she turned to go on ahead, he briefly caught the sight of how the light passed her eyes and made them glow translucently.

As the two walked, the ocean breeze caressed his face and brushed his hair a bit, while feeling the cold current of the Mediterranean. He sees how Nayla in front of him dipped her hands in the water and had it splash up in the air, gently landing on her. He even felt a drop landing on his forehead, he giggled and she turned around, "ماذا؟ (What?)," she asked curiously and grinning.

"حصلت على الرطب**. **(Got wet.)," he pointed to his forehead and she walked up to him, "حسنا، ماذا تريد مني أن أفعل؟ (Well, what do you want me to do?)," she asked coyly with a playful grin, "حسنا، ماذا عن عناق؟ أنا بارد جدا من المياه**. **(Well, how about a hug? I'm so cold from the water.)," he playfully said as he pretended to shiver, and she laughed.

She looked at him, "بالتأكيد**.** (Sure.)," she said and hugged him and he hugged back. He then tightened his grip and twirled her around and she yelled good naturedly, "Ahmed! Ahmed stop," she yelled and laughed at his sudden gesture. He laughed and grinned widely as set her down.

He held her and she gripped his arms, "يبدو تلك السنوات لكرة القدم تؤتي ثمارها**. **(Looks like those years of football are paying off.)," he smirked and she punched his chest hard, but only humoring him, "نعم، والحفاظ على أن تقول لنفسك**. **(Yeah, keep telling yourself that.)," she retorted with a grin and walked ahead down the beach.

Ahmed began to think to himself as he gazed at the sea, smelled the air and looked at Nayla ahead of him. It was a few lines of poetry introduced to him by Nayla once before in one of their classes titled **"Beyrouth".**

…_**elle est mille fois morte, mille fois rev**__**é**__**cue.**_

_**Beyrouth des cent palais, et B**__**é**__**ryte des pierres,**_

_**o**__**ù**__** l'on vient de partout **__**é**__**riger ces statues,**_

_**qui font prier les homes, et font hurler les guerres.**_

Lines that resonated with him since the month long conflict a few months ago and how his country still has to deal with the consequences and a future with a region of the world that's more uncertain now than before. He caught up with Nayla and for the rest of their walk they held hands and just listened to the soft waves of the sea making contact with the beach.

**BUENOS AIRES, ARGENTINA**

**CIUDAD JARD****Í****N LOMAS DEL PALOMAR **

**SUNDAY, 2:43PM**

Dante and Lionel are finishing up a good game of rugby with some of the guys from their school. Since it rained, all of them wore long sleeved jerseys of teams they're fond of, either local or international teams. Dante and Lionel were on the losing team, but with Lionel running with the ball, it was their last chance to tie the game and have a rematch for next weekend. Dante was running with the others on their team, so they can try to prevent the other side from taking out Lionel. Lionel was too fast and reached the goal post they have set up with their bikes and mopeds.

The other team groaned but soon enough everyone was grinning and patted each other's backs, congratulating on their good game. As everyone parted, Lionel and Dante bicycled away on their bikes and headed for a street cart that sold choripan sandwiches and empanadas, a perfect meal for them.

Once ordered they sat on a semi-dry bench nearby and began eating, with sodas in hand. Lionel started eating, "**Che, ¿sigues viniendo a la fiesta esta noche?** (Hey, are you still coming to the party tonight?)," he asked with his mouth full.

Dante swallowed his mouthful of his choripan, "**Sí, claro. ¿Pidió Maricel que vaya contigo? **(Yeah sure. Did you ask Maricel to come with you?)," he asked and took another bite, "**Lo hice y me dijo que sí.** (I did and she said yes.)," he said happily, "**Oh! ¿Le preguntaste a Clara para ir con vos esta noche?** (Oh! Did you ask Clara to go with you tonight?)," Lionel asked him, since he tries to set him up a few times.

Dante looked at him, "**Lo hice y me dijo que sí.** (I did and she said yes.)," he said nonchalantly, and Lionel hooted jovially, "**Y yo que pensaba que eran cada vez el celibato.** (And I thought you were becoming celibate.)," Lionel joked and patted his friend's back. Dante rolled his eyes and drank his soda while his friend enjoyed a good turn of events in his friend's life.

Lionel looked at Dante, "**Sabes que sólo estoy tratando de ayudarte. Escucha. Simplemente disfrutar esta noche y quien sabe ... puede que tenga suerte.** (You know I'm only trying to help you out. Listen to me. Just enjoy yourself tonight and who knows…you might get lucky.)," he winked suggestively and both laughed at themselves and at the thought of scoring.

Dante ceased laughed but kept on smiling, "**Tendré eso en cuenta.** (I'll keep that in mind.)," he chuckled and continued eating.

**7:45PM**

Dante walked down the street with Clara next to him. The early evening air was crisp with the slight drizzle so both of them carried umbrellas in case it rained later in the night. Dante wore a grey turtleneck sweater, with a black coat, blue jeans with white Puma sneakers, and his black hair combed back. Clara wore a black blouse underneath her jacket, sported skinny jeans and wore her black heels and her silky brown hair flowed down past her shoulders and framing her face.

As the two walked, they carried on their conversation, "**Y entonces ella dijo que nuestro profesor de historia movió la fecha de vencimiento para nuestra papel de viernes a miércoles. **(And then she said that our history professor moved the due date for our paper from Friday to Wednesday)," she said, "**Mierda! Yo no lo he empezado. **(Shit! I haven't started on it yet.)," Dante revealed.

"**No lo has hecho? Entonces escribe rápidamente. Ya sabes cómo es con papeles atrasados.** (You haven't? You better write it quick then. You know how he is with late papers.)," she warned, "**Lo sé, pero él me ama.** (I know, but he loves me.)," he said with a semi-cocky tone.

She rolled her eyes, "**Nuestros profesores quieren que sea estrangular o alabarte. ¿Cómo se hace eso? **(Our professors either want to strangle you or praise you. How do you do that?)," she asked and he shrugged his shoulders, "**Lo veo de esta manera, si usted demuestra que trabajar duro en sus tareas, que le da credibilidad a hacer lo que te de la gana. **(I look at it like this, if you show you work hard on your assignments, that gives you credence to do whatever the hell you want.)," he said put his left hand in his pocket.

Clara looked at him and held his arm, felt the muscles underneath his coat and sweater. She did find him a bit weird, but overall, hot and loved his hazel eyes. She also admired his intelligence and his drive to balance out school with online performances that occur early in the morning on Fridays or Saturdays. Of course, she did see the moments where he would have his mood swings, but for the majority of the school, they just attributed it to his personality. When he asked her to come with him to the party, she felt elated, going with a hot guy who has an edge of unpredictability.

Dante on the other hand was thinking about when he asked out Clara in the first place. And also remembering the little moments that occurred before, during, and after…

_FLASHBACK~ WEDNESDAY 5:04PM_

_He was practicing his abilities away from his home, showing a bit of it to Lionel, using his AT Field to manipulate the empty soda cans into abstract shapes. He has been practicing on how to control and manipulate it, knowing that Asuka and Shinji have also improved their use of their own abilities, strangely given to them by their former Evangelion Units in high Earth orbit. He now can stretch his AT Field and make it into a flexible shield and weapon…but so far has never dared to use it. Instead, he's done small experiments involving his best friend to throw glass bottles, shoot bird shot with a slingshot, or simply tossing empty soda cans. Every time, he would gesture his hands and move his body to really get the feel of his AT Field._

_After the two were done, Lionel got off of the wall and approached Dante, "__**¿Vas a venir en la noche del domingo?**__ (Are you coming on Sunday night?)," he asked, "__**Si. Finalmente, algo para empezar la semana en el buen sentido. **__(Yeah. Finally, something to start off the week in a good way.)," Dante said with a grin._

_Lionel looked at him and then at the manipulated cans and bottles, "__**Pensando en pedir a alguien? **__(Thinking to ask someone out?)," he asked and Dante looked at him, "Clara Serrano," Dante revealed and Lionel looked at him with his mouth slightly agape. _

_He was surprised, "__**Una vez más vos va para las calientes! Y ella está en el top ten!**__ (Again you go for the hot ones! And she's in the top ten!)," Lionel exclaimed, but Dante rolled his eyes, "__**Sí sigan así. Una erección llegará pronto. **__(Yeah keep it up. A boner will come soon.)," he ball busted him slightly._

_Lionel laughed and gave him the finger, "__**Jódete.**__ (Fuck you.)," he laughed and Dante grinned, "__**Maricel viene?**__ (Is Maricel coming?)," he asked his friend, "__**Ella es, y está entusiasmado, ya que lo que a ella se refiere. **__(She is, and she's excited, as far as she is concerned.)," he said. Both knew that she didn't like huge parties but she tends to draw their small crowd of friends and she opens up jovially. Especially when this party was small to begin with._

_Dante, as he and Lionel parted ways, he rode his bike around the neighborhood before heading home while he listened to __"Loucura" __sung by __Mariza__ on his iPod. It started to rain a little bit and was glad he wore his navy blue hooded sweater with black skinny jeans and Converse shoes. As he rode passed by a local park, he noticed some teenagers his age and older levitating certain objects like empty cardboard boxes, metal pipes and glass wine bottles and shattering them. He was instantly reminded of what occurred the year before, but he kept on riding his bike and after a few minutes, he arrived home. _

"_**Hijo, lavarse las manos, la cena está casi lista.**__ (Son, wash your hands, dinner is almost ready.)," his mother said as he reached the foot of the stairs, "__**Bueno, déjame revisar mi correo electrónico rápidamente.**__ (Okay, just let me check my email quickly.)," he said as he made his way up the stairs._

_Once in his room, he took off his hooded sweater, shoes and socks. Now only in his white t-shirt and jeans, he turned on his laptop and logged onto his Yahoo account to see any new mail. He found one from Wilfredo:_

_[~Found out that whatever I can do with my abilities or Danny for that matter…apparently, there are a few others here in town who can do similar things. Not as strong or adept at it, and a few of them are assholes. Shinji told me the same thing a while back, not sure about Asuka or you for that matter. Just the spur of the moment message, you don't have to reply back~]_

_Dante reread it and decided to reply back, albeit in a shorter message:_

_[~Well, just now I came across a few guys doing similar things. Didn't say hello, I just rode my bike home. But this is interesting~]_

_Dante looked at his account and found another email, this time from Fatma. Intrigued, he opened it:_

_[~Hey its me __ Good news, I got asked out on a date. Well, not a date per-say, more like an outing with some friends. But some of the girls are trying to set me up, don't know how else to put it…Anyway, hope to talk to you later this week~]_

_Dante read it and smiled softly, but also had a tang of disappointment, since he wanted to be the one to ask her out first, "Well, at least she's having fun…I should have fun as well," he said to himself and began typing his response:_

_[~I hope things go well for you. I'm also going on a date in a few days. It's for a party, nothing serious, only a good time. I'll talk to you later this week~]_

_He then logged out of his Yahoo account and turned off his laptop. He took off his t-shirt, along with his jeans so he can slip into some black sweats and a white shirt. He checked himself in the mirror, checking out his fit body and feeling a bit of pride as any guy would. He then headed for the bathroom to wash his hands and went downstairs, drying his hands on his sweats. He used the house phone and called Clara, "__**Hola Clara, ¿cómo estás? **__(Hey Clara, how are you?)," he asked and she responded._

_After a few moments of brief chatting he finally got his nerve, "__**Escucha Clara, ¿te gustaría a venir conmigo a ese partido el domingo?**__ (Listen Clara, would you like to come with me to that party on Sunday?)," he rarely did this and even though he flirted around, good naturedly anyway, the process of asking someone out unnerved him to some extent._

_Clara said yes and he felt great, albeit restrained, he didn't want his parents to know about it yet…_

The two arrived at the home of one of their classmate's party, considering there was music by the Ramones playing from the house and some of the people they know were also outside, talking or making out. Dante formed a half grin on his face, not really a fan of PDA, however, since this wasn't school, he didn't mind.

Dante and Clara stepped inside, "**Oi, lo lograste!** (Hey, you made it!)," Lionel exclaimed, "**Y yo que pensaba que no iba a venir.** (And here I thought you wouldn't come.)," he added, he wore blue skinny jeans with a white sweater and his hair pulled into a ponytail, sporting Converse sneakers.

Both laughed, Clara spoke up, "**Me voy a ver mis amigos. Te veo en un rato.** (I'm going to see my friends. See you in a bit.)," she said with a grin and she disappeared into the crowd.

Lionel smirked at his best friend and Dante grinned as he rolled his eyes. He took off his coat and puts it in the closet close to the door, as well as his and Clara's umbrellas.

"**¿Dónde está el imbécil a cargo?** (So where is the idiot in charge?)," Dante asked, "**Probablemente con un harén de minas en estos momentos, arriba, creo.** (Probably with a harem of ladies as we speak, upstairs I think.)," Lionel joked and Dante sighed, "**Joder. ****É****l es más loco que una cabra con pollitos.** (Fuck. He's crazier than a goat with chicks.)," he said.

The two spotted a player from the team they played against earlier in the afternoon, Paolo Rivera, "**Che! **(Hey man!)," Lionel greeted but the guy with short brown hair with a side parting, wearing his glasses, an unbuttoned black shirt with a white shirt underneath, khaki cargo pants and brown Puma shoes.

He gave a look at the two, not really pleased about the loss, "**La sacaste barata.** (You were lucky.)," he said and Dante grinned, "**Yo s****é**** boludo.** (I know fool.)," Dante said and Paolo gave him the finger, "**Tirame la goma pelotudo.** (Suck my dick motherfucker.)," he said now slightly pissed and before he could continue, Lionel interrupted him and Dante.

"**Ciao.** (Later.)," he said and went over to his girlfriend. Paolo and Dante then sees the two starting to make out and heading for upstairs, presumably to find a somewhere for some private time, "**Va a mojar la chaucha.** (He's going to get laid.)," Dante said, pointing out the obvious, "**Cara rota.** (Shameless.)," Paolo offhandedly remarked and drank his Coke.

**PHILADELPHIA, PA, US**

**AMITY HIGH SCHOOL **

**WEEK THREE, TUESDAY, 3:45PM**

Danny fired energy bolts at a ghost, unleashed by Walker, "Finally, I'll be able to put you behind bars after so long," Walker taunted, as he adjusted the rope in his hands and the handcuffs on his waist.

Danny went intangible and flew upstairs to the third floor, where Wilfredo was checking his cellphone. He didn't try to acknowledge his classmate, just adjusted his leather jacket that went well with his grey sweater underneath, jeans and Converse sneakers.

This kind of pissed off Danny, "Dude! Help me out," Danny shouted and Wilfredo turned to his right and noticed Walker with the horrifying looking ghost, with sinister red eyes, baring its teeth and growling. Matted black hair and tattered red clothing over its body, "Ah yes, the infamous medium," Walker stared at Wilfredo, who only prepared for the worst.

"Damn it Danny," he turned at Danny, clearly agitated, "Come on, please," Danny practically pleaded as he fired a couple of shots of ectoplasmic energy. As he focused on the hideous looking ghost, Wilfredo stared up at Walker.

Wilfredo decided to try a different ploy, "So…what do want," he said, keeping his cool and Walker eyeing him, "What else, incarcerating those who have broken the rules," he said coolly with menace lacing his voice.

Wilfredo leaned against the lockers and crossing his arms, "And what rules would that be," he asked again and Walker squinted, "For using your abilities on unsuspecting mortals and showcasing them to paranormal investigators and the Church," he said the last part with some venom.

Wilfredo clenched his hands into fists and let his arms fall to his sides, "Well…most of that is true…but since you don't know the context of those incidences, you don't know shit," he called him out and Walker floated right in front of him.

"If that's the case, then I might as well arrest you," he was about to bring up his handcuffs, but Wilfredo lets out a feral yell and jumped the ghost. Walker was never expecting this, a human able to jump on him and able to pin him to the floor. And even more shocked about not being able to phase through the floor, let alone phase through the young man, who has a disturbed look in his eyes. All the while, the blood red coloring his irises in a pseudo-natural manner added to the creepiness.

"What…what are you," Walker asked, now slightly afraid as Wilfredo raised his left hand that now glowed blood red, "A medium," he said in a dead calm tone, "Liar! A medium would never act like this or have this much energy! Now give me the truth, what are you," Walker demanded an answer.

Wilfredo's eyes glowed for a second, but maintained the eerie blood red look, "…I don't know…I hoped you could tell me," he said simply and harshly placed his left hand on Walker's head. Walker yelled in agony and tried in vain to escape by thrashing about, causing Danny and the demonic looking ghost to come after the two, the demonic ghost growled and Wilfredo turned his head and yelled fiercely, "LEAVE ME ALONE! AND DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!"

The demonic ghost stopped growling and stepped back by one step, and his snarl lessened a bit. Danny looked at Wilfredo with some trepidation, not know how to stop whatever his classmate/friend was doing…and he didn't like it at all. It reminded him of Anamnesis or even that incident two years ago involving Vlad, when they witnessed the extent of his abilities with levitation and manipulating his energy in a devastating, offensive fashion.

Danny then tried something different, he flew behind Wilfredo and had his hands glowed neon green. He then grabbed Wil's head and he let out a feral yell, with Danny trying not to get repelled by their opposing energy forces. Then Wilfredo ultimately let go of Walker, whose head slumped to the floor in a dead heap. Danny quickly checked Walker's pulse, which meant seeing his aura. Which was severely damaged around the head that stretched down to his torso. Danny then looked at Wilfredo with a look that's a mixture of frustration, anger, fear, and uncertainty. Not knowing, even after two years of trying to know the Portuguese American, how to handle him.

Danny turned around and took out his thermos and sucked in both Walker and Walker's helper. Both boys were exhausted and Wilfredo checked his watch, "My friends are coming in a bit…Mohammad is running late," his breathing was ragged as he tried to calm down and slumped down to the floor and sat cross legged

Danny looked at him as he sat across from him, while glancing down each end of the hallway to see if anybody was coming. To play it safe, he transformed back to normal, revealing what he really wore, his dark blue hooded sweater, a black shirt underneath with Smashing Pumpkins logo on it, and khaki cargo pants with white and black DC sneakers, "That's cool…at least no one saw us," Danny said, but Wilfredo only hummed in agreement.

After a few moments of silence, Danny coughed to break it, "Listen," Wilfredo now focused on him with a tired expression, "I know for a whole year now, you helped out from time to time…and I appreciate it, the same with my friends," Danny was basically rambling and Wilfredo noticed.

But then Danny focused and finally told him what he thought of what just happened in the past few minutes, "But the way you handled Walker and the other ghosts in the past year…I don't like it. I don't fight them to kill them, or destroy them. I fight them so I can protect my friends, my family and the town. I'm a hero, through and through and if you still want to…" but before he could continue, Wil stopped him talking, "Stop Danny," he said it in a clearly frustrated tone.

"What," Danny asked, "I thought you understood by now, even from when I encountered that Vlad dude two years ago. I'm not a hero. Period. I only do what I have to do so I can get out of it quick. And if it also means helping you out from time to time, fine. But I'm not going to pretend, I'm going to do what it takes to show them what I can do," Wilfredo explained in a way that both intrigued and put Danny off.

"And that is what exactly," Danny asked, uncertain on what the response was going to be, "That if I can show how fierce I can be, by showing bits and pieces of my deep, dark side of my abilities, then they won't mess with me and I hoped, by extension, you and the others won't have to deal with as many ghosts as before," Wilfredo explained his motives as best he could. But on some level, Danny couldn't accept it, there was something a bit off with Wil's defense.

"I don't buy it," and this caught Wilfredo's attention, "I don't buy it because you had all this time to just walk away or decide to join my friends and I. But you do this instead, showing off your power as if you're trying to upstage me or something," Danny again, misunderstood Wilfredo, and at this point, he had enough.

He had enough of the secrecy, the bottling up of his past, a past he has been reluctant to share, a past he only shared with his friends, especially Zane. He looked at Danny and breathed in and out, "…Another reason I have is to…I guess, atone for what I've done," he said and Danny was getting frustrated.

"You have to be clearer than that dude. Please, I need something to work with," he said and Wilfredo sighed, trying to concentrate his thoughts, "I had a history back in Brooklyn. Before that incident I was framed for, yeah…it involved experimenting my abilities with my cousin, who also has unique abilities. In his case, it involves dreams and…I was ten and he was seven, just months before he moved to Texas. He tried to do what I can do, but I told him, as did my dad that he couldn't. And I tried to do what he does, and I could, but not as adept as he is…during that time, we suffered horrendous nightmares associated with our abilities and…our parents told us that was a side effect. If we push beyond our abilities…things happen," he stopped, clearly angry at himself about something.

Danny never saw him like this, or heard him open up so much in one sitting. Usually, he would hear something like this at a distance, but in Spanish or giving hints in Portuguese. He sighed and asked the obvious question, "What kind of things?"

Wilfredo's closed jaw and mouth clenched tightly, "…I-I've put people into comas for a few days. And…and when that happened, my parents were notified by the Church, and some paranormal investigators got involved," he began, not knowing that Danny has already known bits and pieces thanks to Tucker's investigation. But he decided not to say anything right now and allowed Wil to explain himself.

"I don't know what I am really. I call myself a medium because it's easier to bear, but my father and some of my Portuguese relatives have called me a mystic from time to time, but I don't believe that either. I mean, a mystic hones his or her abilities while having an intense connection to inner spirituality. But I've never had a deep connection to that, but I do with my friends and family…so I figured that's enough. But still…" he looked at Danny, not knowing whether he should continue or not. He felt exhausted and extremely thirsty.

Danny's face softened a bit, "It's okay, you don't have to continue," he reassured him, but Wil continued for a bit longer, out of trust he supposed, "Well…I guess you can say my abilities bring out the best and worst in me. I can either heal damaged souls, as does Fatma and Cecilia during our private chats, or I can destroy you, leaving you a lifeless husk with only vague memories of who you once were," he said.

"Why did you tell me that," Danny asked, now engrossed, "Because I'm not afraid of that part. What I am afraid of is to push far enough where I might get lost in my head and not come out…something that really nearly did happen when I was framed three years ago," he said.

"And that's the thing I want to ask you about. Who actually framed you for that car hijacking incident in Brooklyn," Danny asked and Wilfredo chuckled a bit, "It's sad to say that I forgot his name. I only knew the punk for a month or two before it happened," he said with humor at his own forgetfulness and faint residual venom at the kid who nearly destroyed him.

Danny looked at Wilfredo, and finally he felt he was beginning to understand the Portuguese American. But before he could delve any further, maybe he can help him out by finding out the guy who really framed him, perhaps to settle some things personally, "But do you at least remember his first name? Maybe Tucker can find out if he's still in New York or has moved on to another city," Danny suggested and as tempting as that sounded, Wilfredo thought it wouldn't lead to anything new.

He thought about it for a moment longer and decided to reveal the name, "Well, his name was Kevin. I don't remember his last name, but remember the first letter of his middle name. It's E," he said and this got Danny to chuckle a bit, "Well that narrows it down to everyone with the name Kevin."

Wilfredo also chuckled, "I know…this sucks," he got up and picked up his backpack. He then heard footsteps coming from down the hall to his left; he saw that it was his friends coming to the classroom with Mohammad leading them and talking with his wife, who came to supervise the rehearsal.

"I'll talk to you later…if you don't mind. There are some things I have to show you and the others," Wilfredo said and Danny nodded in agreement. So he phased through the floor leaving Wilfredo to his current life that is increasingly polarized from Danny's life.

'_Why did I reveal that much to him? Was I tired, or did I actually trust him,' _he thought this as Mohammad greeted him and opened the music room's door, and he entered, along with his friends. Zane glanced at him, having a feeling that something was wrong, so he decided to talk with him after their rehearsal.

**KYOTO, JAPAN**

**SAKYO-KU WARD **

**WEDNESDAY, 3:25PM**

Shinji stood up and bowed, as did the rest of the class before leaving for home. While his friends were on cleaning duty, Shinji decided to head for Haruki's class. He grabbed his backpack, jacket with a grey scarf and cello case, "**私は後で君たちが表示されます。** (I'll see you guys later.)," he told Takeshi, Kenji and Haruhi.

"**よし。** (Alright.)," they said in unison and he headed out of the classroom. He headed upstairs as he checked for any new messages on his cellphone, none so far so put it back in his pocket. He puts on his forest green school jacket without buttoning up and loosely puts on his scarf. He was on the fourth floor now, passing by some girls he's gotten to know from his indoor swim class, "**シンジこんにちは。** (Hello Shinji.)," one of them said in a flirty tone, "**美智子こんにちは。 **(Hello Michiko.)," he greeted good-naturedly and Michiko along with her friend walked away giggling a bit.

Shinji reached his older brother's classroom as soon as he stepped out, "**行く準備ができていますか？** (Ready to go?)," he asked, "**確信しています。** (Sure am.)," Shinji responded as the two headed for the stairs and reached the main entrance, and headed for their shoe lockers where their regular sneakers were. After changing, they headed outside with the sky blue, but with the familiar autumn chill in the air. As the two headed for the gates, Haruki turned his head to his left and notices a guy he knew, Shigeru Goto. He was one of those guys who would pick on the younger students whenever he lost a match in any sport. To Shinji, this reminded him of how Dash picked on certain students back in Amity Park, and he didn't like it.

Shinji huffed and walked towards the scene, "**シンジ！シンジはありません！ **(Shinji! Shinji don't!)," Haruki rushed after him, "**ヘイ！それはやめろ！** (Hey! Quit it!)," Shinji yelled, somewhat surprised on how he can stand up for himself and for others now.

Shigeru looked up after harassing the poor freshman, "**何て言ったの？** (What did you say?)," he challenged, "**あなたは私を聞いたそのたわごとを終了！** (You heard me, quit that shit!)," Shinji countered and Shigeru was now focusing on him rather than on the poor kid.

Shigeru then notices Haruki coming up to them, "**ねえ春樹は、ラインにあなたの弟を保つ。そうでなければ、私はそうするでしょう。** (Hey Haruki, keep your younger brother in line. Otherwise, I would.)," Shigeru wanted to intimidate the two, "**私はこの上に私の弟の側にいる。あなたが今何をやっている****...****誰もが、これはでたらめ容認するつもりはありません！** (I'm on my brother's side on this. What you're doing right now…no one is going to tolerate this bullshit!)," Haruki spoke up to his long time jackass of a rival.

"**そして、誰が私を停止するために何をするつもりだ？** (And who's going to do anything to stop me?)," Shigeru asked with a cocky grin as two of his goon like friends stepped up alongside him, "**私とシンジここ。** (Me and Shinji here.)," Haruki said, not backing down and Shinji was the same, "**そう。それを終了したり、他の！** (That's right. Quit it or else!)," he said with some force and the poor freshman looked on what might be a throw down.

Shigeru stepped up in front of Shinji who didn't flinch, except for the growing knot in his stomach. Anticipating what might occur, it was a familiar feeling, "**たびにあなたは準備が整いました。** (Whenever you're ready.)," Shigeru challenged but Shinji stoically stood there, "**さて、あなたは何を待っている？** (Well, what are you waiting for?)," Shigeru spoke loudly to get a reaction, but Shinji kept his cool. Haruki watched his younger brother and then at Shigeru, waiting to see what's going to go down.

Shigeru then turned around, as if he was about to leave, but then launches a surprise punch that struck Shinji's left cheek, and that was when things went down. Shinji looked at Shigeru, preparing for another assault, after threw down his backpack and set down his cello case. Shigeru then walked up to Shinji to launch another punch, but he deflected it with his left hand, he then delivered an open palm punch at Shigeru's face. Then he grabbed Shigeru's right arm, which he deflected, kicked Shigeru's right leg out of place, which allowed Shinji to throw Shigeru over himself and had him land on the ground hard. Shinji then kicked him in the stomach to incapacitate him, he then reached for his back pack and just as Shigeru was about to get up, Shinji swings his backpack at Shigeru's head, which was loaded with three heavy textbooks and that did knock out Goto.

Haruki handled one of the two goons, by dodging the punches and the guy's attempts at grappling. Using his skills in judo, he redirected the guy's blows and repeatedly threw him to the ground and on his fourth attempt to subdue him, Haruki not only grabbed him by the leg and had him fall to the ground, he came to the ground and after he rotated the guy so he was facing the dirt, Haruki held the leg and began to bend the knee in the opposite direction which had the guy begging. Haruki lets him go, but was then put in a bear hold by another goon from behind and the second goon on the ground got up and bore a smirk, planning to launch a series of punches at Haruki's abdomen. But before he could do so, Shinji hits the guy's shoulder and had him turn around so he could hit him in the face with his right elbow. And after a few more punches, the guy landed on the ground, groaning in pain while clutching his torso. Haruki elbowed the guy in the abdomen close to the groin and stomped on his left foot. He cried out in pain and Haruki did a backward head-but to the guy's face. Then Haruki turned around as soon as the guy's grip was loosened, grabbed him by his shirt and body dropped him. He straddles him, with his back to the guy's face and begins to deliver a few, but powerful punches to the guy's gut.

Haruki got up and looked at Shinji, both of them breathing somewhat hoarsely and looking at the guys they knocked out, and then noticed Shigeru staggering to get up and holds himself up on his hands and looking at the two, "**あなたは****...****貴様ら！** (You…You bastards!)," he cursed, which prompted Haruki and Shinji to gather their things made a run for it.

They bolted for the gates and kept running down the street heading for home, and Shinji struggled to keep his grip on his cello case and backpack. Haruki kept on running, checking behind himself to see if Shinji was keeping up. After fifteen minutes of running they arrived home and at the front door, they took off their shoes and headed for their room.

Once inside, they collapsed to the floor, panting for breath and their chests hurting a bit from their exertion, "**神聖ながらくた！** (Holy crap!)," Shinji said in a deeply ragged voice, "**私達はちょうど何が地獄をやったの！** (What the hell did we just do!)," he asked rhetorically.

Haruki panting as well looked at him, "**私は他に何ができただろうと、我々はちょうど彼らの尻を蹴ったと思います。 **(I think we just kicked their asses, what else could that have been.)," he answered rhetorically with a layer of sarcasm, "**私が知っている！ちょうどそれを言って****...****我々はトラブルに巻き込まれる可能性があります。 **(I know that! Just saying that…we could get in trouble.)," Shinji now calming down but feels the sweat pouring down his neck and hairline. He started to take off his school jacket and undid the top buttons of his white shirt.

Haruki calmed down and looked at Shinji, "**私はそう思う、おそらく手首、それは放課後だったので警告で、学校の敷地内に平手打ち。ません教授たちのほとんどが私たちを知っているので、しかし、、彼らはそのろくでなし茂と違って、私たちのために保証することができます。 **(I don't think so, probably a slap on the wrist and a warning since it was afterschool and on school grounds. However, since most of the professors know us, they can vouch for us, unlike for that bastard Shigeru.)," he said as he too took off his school jacket and threw it on his top bunk.

Shinji sat on the floor silent for a few moments and then turned to his older brother, "**春樹、あなたはママとパパが私に怒ると思いますか？** (Haruki, do you think mom and dad will get mad at us?)," he asked and Haruki sighed, "**彼らは確かだその幸せになることはありません。しかし、私は私達の理由は本質的に良好であったので、彼らは、あまりにも怒っているのどちらかではないと思います。** (They won't be happy that's for sure. But I think they won't be too angry either, since our reasons were good in nature.)," Haruki explained and then Shinji laughed a bit, so did Haruki. Both knew there will be lectures, a small price to pay.

Shinji shook his head left and right, and had on an exhausted smile, "**あなただけをした長い時間のために彼にそれをやってみたかった？ **(You just wanted to do that to him for a long time did you?)," he asked, half knowing what the response will be…and sure enough he got it, "**地獄ええ。** (Hell yeah.)," Haruki said with a triumphant grin and both boys laughed.

Haruki ceased laughing, but kept on his grin, "**聞いて、私は少しのための私の女の子の家のためのクイックシャワーと頭を取るつもりだ。** (Listen, I'm gonna take a quick shower and head for my girl's house for a bit.)," he said as he stood up and stood in front of the closet door mirror behind him. Taking off his white shirt revealing his wife beater shirt underneath and his body toned and hardened, proving his expertise in judo after nearly eleven years of training and practice. He felt proud, as any guy would, especially when there's a girlfriend in the picture, "**あなたは彼女がすることができますとそれを得るために待つことができないのですか？** (You can't wait to get it on with her can you?)," Shinji jokingly asked and Haruki laughed.

He took off his pants, revealing his muscled legs and his navy blue boxer briefs, "**それはあなたが飛鳥オンライン、もしくはベイルートでその時に話をしたときと同じだ。私は、これらのその女の子が来たとき 、あなたは****2****段ベッドがあなたのそれを取得するとお母さんが来て、高い天に叫ぶでしょう約になりますのいずれかを誓う。 **(It's the same with you when you talk to Asuka online, or that time in Beirut. I swear, one of these when that girl comes, you two will be on your bunk about to get it on and mom will come in and yell to high heaven.)," he jokingly said and got a good laugh out of it as he grabbed his towel and a fresh pair of underwear.

Shinji felt his face redden, "**あなたが吸う。** (You suck.)," he said and Haruki gave a mischievous smirk and left the room, leaving Shinji on the floor, facing the window. He then got up and took off his shirt, as well as his pants, leaving himself only in his red-stripped white boxers. He stood in front of the mirror, admiring his now lean form, the result of working out with his brother for nearly a year and a half now. He still maintained his ponytail, but is deciding to whether or not to have it trimmed.

He sits on the chair near their shared computer desk and turns on the computer. He began searching the photos that were taken two days prior to the events of the start of the month long war in Lebanon. Many of the photos downloaded from his and his friends' digital cameras, many of them were from the hotel's pool or the beach they trekked to almost daily after intense rehearsals, either in the afternoon or in the early evening. There was one photo that struck out, actually two, one where Asuka surprised him with a deep lip locking kiss on his pool lounge chair and the second that came after where Asuka assaulted Shinji and had him on his back, getting tickled insanely by her.

Shinji grinned and chuckled at the two photos, remembering how he and she would sneak moments to make out in their rooms when their parents were out. After their make out sessions, they would lie on their beds and talk for a little bit, white giving each other caresses on their hair and backs. Remembering those moments were important to him, because now, separated by thousands of miles, with little chance on staying together for more than a week now, keeping this new relationship was difficult. There were moments when he wanted to go out with a girl from his class, just so he can feel some familiarity by being close to a person, at least by walking with someone other than his brother or his friends. But then he decided not to because he knew if he tried to start a new relationship, it would last…and Asuka would kick his ass on the next chance she gets.

As he heard the shower commencing across the hall, he began to touch himself, but only for a little bit. One, since his brother was here and his mom could come home and catch him…again; he didn't want a repeat incident. He though about Asuka mainly, and of course a few girls in his class and those who flirt with him in the hallways, it boosted his male ego. He stopped and then ceased what he was doing, and a humorous thought came to him, _'__**くそ**__**...**__**私もオフけいれんとママが再び私をキャッチするかどうか心配だけど**__**...**__**うわー、私は普通の男だ。少なくとも**__**...**__**私はそこになりそうだ。 **__(Damn…I'm even jerking off and worrying whether or not mom will catch me again…wow, I'm a normal guy. At least…I'm getting there.),' _he thought and resumed to watching a few videos on YouTube.

After ten minutes or so, his brother came back only in his underwear with the towel around his neck, "**シンジさて、あなたのターン。** (Okay Shinji, your turn.)," he said and he turned around after watching a few videos, "**さて、感謝します。** (Okay, thanks.)," Shinji said as he grabbed his own towel and underwear and headed for the bathroom.

Once inside he turned on the water and have it warm up a bit. Once ready he stepped inside and let the warm water flow down his body, he closed his eyes as he thought about another memory, _'__**それはミサトが言ったことです。**__**"**__**良い風呂は、心と魂をきれいにするのに役立ちます**__**" ...**__**と彼女は右に沿ってすべてだった。それは身体と心を助けんが魂のためか私は知りませんが、ストレッチのあまり音を鳴らします。その後、再び、それは心をきれいにしません。心**__**...**__**すべては、私の思い出は、私の恐怖、私の怒り、私の友情、私の愛、私の家族、私の**__**...**__**私を**__**...**__ ("__A good bath helps clean the mind and soul__". That's what Misato said…and she was right all along. It does help the body and mind. But for the soul? I don't know, sounds too much of a stretch. Then again, it does clean the mind. The mind…where everything is, my memories, my horrors, my rage, my friendships, my love, my family, my…my…)' _he thought as he began pouring some shampoo on his head and began washing.

**I apologize to you readers for taking this long. I was severely distracted and busy with schoolwork but here it is. And for the next chapter, I'm writing it as I post this chapter and I'll try to update in a quicker pace. As for the piece mentioned in Ahmed's bit, Giovanni Mossi's piece for four violins was taken from an album called Concertos for 4 Violins: Torelli, Mossi, Valentini, Locatelli, and Leo. Performed by Musica Antiqua K****ö****ln with its founder and director Reinhard Goebel. **

**Read, review, critique and I'll see all of you in the final chapter for 2006. I would also like to thank HolyDragoon for his advice on how to handle this chapter. I don't know if I answered the question, but I did my best here, and that's all I can hope for.**


	7. November 2006

**LES MUSICIENS**

**2006**

**A CROSSOVER STORY**

**This is the final chapter for this leg of the saga. A notoriously difficult part of the story that forced me to strip down and lay out the bare bones and the messiness of real life as best as I could. Both challenging and frustrating, when I wanted to put more action or heroism, but that would have diverted this leg of the saga. It was more about establishing the characters, all of the important characters for the up and coming '2007'. I don't know how I pulled this off, even after planning and adjusting arc two ahead of time, while finishing a side story for this saga. As the saying goes, "No rest for the wicked." **

**For this chapter, the same number of music pieces inspired the writing process for this chapter. The first is "Fortune Cookie" from the soundtrack to the film "Stay"; the second is from the "Gnossiennes called 3. Lent", composed by Eric Satie, and the third is "Prayers" from the soundtrack to United 93. The third track is for the last two parts to this chapter.**

**And that one little bit involving the Campa boy, and when he finds out more about his past.**

**As a young man writing this chapter, I had to ponder and ask a few women I know personally this particular question: What does it mean to be a young woman? A difficult question to answer I know, since I am a young man whose references are vastly different. But I figured as long as I kept this in the real world, while revealing their extraordinary abilities in tuned to their pasts, I might pull it off.**

**CHAPTER SEVEN**

**NOVEMBER 2006, WEEK FOUR**

Asuka and Eda exited their high school and felt the cold air outside, "**Schließlich kommen einige kaltem Wetter.** (Finally, some cold weather coming.)," Eda said as she shivered slightly, "**Danke globale Erwärmung für die Verlängerung der Sommer und Herbst machen redundant.** (Thank you global warming for prolonging the summer and making autumn redundant.)," Asuka sarcastically said. Eda laughed a bit as she adjusted her blue scarf.

"**Will dahin etwas zu essen bekommen?** (Want to go get something to eat?)," Eda asked Asuka, "**Sicher, aber ich kann nicht bleiben zu lange heute. Ich habe bis zum Ende Auspacken meiner Sachen in meinem neuen Zuhause.** (Sure, but I can't stay out too long today. I have to finish unpacking my things at my new home.)," Asuka said as she too adjusted her burgundy scarf as well.

"**Endlich! Sie wohnen in der Nähe, anstatt den ganzen Weg in Harburg!** (Finally! You live close by rather than all the way in Harburg!)," Eda said happily, "**Ich kenne und für meine Mutter und Pascal, es tut mir leid, Papa, die kürzere Fahrten zur Universität bedeutet. Sie sollten kommen einige Zeit, seine ziemlich nett. **(I know and for my mom and Pascal, I'm sorry, dad, that means shorter trips to the university. You should come some time, its pretty nice.)," Asuka said with a grin and Eda wholeheartedly agreed.

The two walked for another three blocks, talking and cracking jokes about certain guys at school when they try to accentuate their penis size while wearing speedos for indoor swimming. Asuka and Eda usually ball bust the boys, who in return, surprisingly liked it whenever the two tease them, especially when it comes from two hot girls in their swimming class.

**HAMBURG, GERMANY**

**EIMSB****Ü****TTEL BOROUGH****, MONDAY, 3:34PM**

The two were on the tram heading for their favorite shawarma joint to grab a bite to eat. Eda, due to the cold weather wore a leather jacket with a white turtleneck sweater underneath, and sported dark blue jeans with Vans sneakers. Meanwhile, Asuka sported a black long coat with a navy blue turtleneck underneath, a knee length skirt with black leggings and low black heals. She dressed very classy today for a specific reason; she was meeting her former Turkish guardian. This arrangement was set up when the former Children's adoptions were finalized when they arrived in their respective countries. Their Turkish guardians would come around November or December to check up on their progress, both mental and emotional. So despite her reservations, she decided to dress up for the day, which she did get some looks and remarks from her friends, in particular from Eda.

"**Ich kann immer noch nicht glauben, dass Sie sich als Sekretärin gekleidet heute.** (I still can't believe you dressed up as a secretary today.)," Eda commented as she took a swig of her Coke, "**Ich habe dir gesagt habe ich früh nach Hause sein. Meine ehemaligen türkischen Wächter kommen, um Check-up über meine Fortschritte. Und natürlich entpacken.** (I told you I have to be home early. My former Turkish guardians are coming to check up on my progress. And to unpack of course.)," she said, she remembered how she revealed certain things about her past and her abilities to Eda and to her family. But for now, both were not going to dwell on it, instead, they will just act normally as best as they could.

Asuka snorted at her, "**Zumindest habe ich noch von den Jungs bekommen aussieht.** (At least I still get looks from the boys.)," she said with a grin and Eda laughed, "**Auch wir beide in Säcken gekleidet, werden die Jungen an unserer Schule wollen noch Knochen uns!** (Even we both dressed in sacks, the boys at our school will still want to bone us.)," she said and Asuka laughed, "**Oh Gott, nein!** (Oh God no!)"

Eda chuckled and as she was about to take another bite of her shawarma, but caught the glimpse of a boy from their homeroom, "**Hey aussehen.** (Hey look.)," she told her and Asuka turned around and noticed him as well. Both waved and he waved back, which prompted him to enter.

The boy in question was Bernhard Gottlieb, who sported black hair, cool blue eyes that has a dark hue surrounding it, fair skin, strong jaw line, full lips, broad shoulders and well-built physique due to his participation in wrestling. However, the one thing he's been doing longer than wrestling, which he only has been doing for four years, is being a musician. He's the leading pianist for the school's orchestra and an excellent soloist when he does perform. Today, due to the cold he sported a dark blue coat, a dark green sweater, grey scarf, khaki pants, brown Puma shoes, and he carried his messenger bag on his left shoulder with his douffle bag on his right that carried his wrestling and his typical workout clothes.

"**Hallo meine Damen, wunderbar, fangen Sie zwei hier. Gerade du Asuka.** (Hello ladies, wonderful to catch you two here. Especially you Asuka.)," he looked down at her and gave his smirk of a smile, in his attempt to flirt, "**Sorgfältige Bernhard, könnte deine Freundin vermute etwas.** (Careful Bernhard, your girlfriend might suspect something.)," she casually remarked and took another bite of her shawarma.

He chuckled a bit, "**Oh, sie hatte und ich ein Argument heute früher und ... na ja, Sie wissen, wie die Dinge sich herausstellte.** (Oh, she and I had an argument earlier today and…well, you know how things turned out.)," he hinted and the two ladies immediately caught on what's going on, "**Typisch. Gymnasium Beziehungen dauern selten.** (Typical. High school relationships rarely last.)," Asuka, as she brushed her hair around her left ear, commented after taking a swig of her soda.

"**Vereinbart. Aber wenn man amerikanischen Programm zu sehen, sie buchstäblich schieben diese Idee von "High School Sweethearts 'down nicht nur ihre eigenen Kehlen, sondern auch unsere.** (Agreed. But when you see American programming, they literally push that idea of 'high school sweethearts' down not only their own throats but ours as well.)," Eda voiced her opinion and Bernhard snickered.

Bernhard then took a chair from an available table and sat with the two girls and now focused on Asuka, "**Welche Stück werden Sie die Durchführung am Freitag?** (What piece are you performing on Friday?)," he asked with his hands folded together on the table and had a flirty glimmer in his eye, but she paid no attention.

She took another bite of her shawarma and motioned Eda to answer for her, "**Sie wird durchgeführt Serenata di Moritzburg**, **Sonata A-dur Seibel 208,** **und schließlich Konzertsatz c-moll Seibel 240**. **Alle drei von Johann David Heinichen komponierte. **(She's going to perform **Serenata di Moritzburg**, **Sonata A-dur Seibel 208**, and finally **Konzertsatz c-moll Seibel 240**. All three composed by **Johann David Heinichen)**," she said and then added a funny but expected tidbit for the upcoming performance, "**Der einzige Komponist für ein Bier verwechselt.** (The only composer mistaken for a beer.)"

"**Oh Gott nicht wieder.** (Oh god not that again.)," Asuka said with a dry smile and added something for the upcoming performance, "**Und bevor ich es vergesse, ich bat um eine besondere Leistung rund um die Feiertage, um Mohammad Moradi.** (And before I forget, I requested a special performance around the holidays to Mohammad Moradi.)," she revealed and the two looked forward hoping for her response, "**Wirklich? Was hat er gesagt?** (Really? What did he say.)," Eda asked, hoping for some good news.

Asuka smiled, "**Er sagte, dass das Orchester hier ankommen in Hamburg rund um den Urlaub zu erfüllen und Ihnen zusammen mit Bernhard hier teilnehmen zu können. **(He said that the orchestra will arrive here in Hamburg around the holidays to perform and you along with Bernhard here will be able to participate.)," she said and Eda yelled ecstatically and Asuka along with Bernhard cringed slightly from her yelling, "**Mein Gott, ich kann es nicht glauben!** (My God I cannot believe it!)"

Asuka laughed and grinned, "**Nun glauben Bitch!** (Well believe it bitch!)," she said loudly and Eda hugged her and Bernhard just sat there, absorbing the wonderful news and smiled at her.

**3:58PM**

Asuka bid goodbye to Eda as she took a bus home, leaving her with Bernhard who lived, coincidentally a few blocks from her new home. With the cold air still a factor, they put on their gloves and continued their conversation as they walked.

"**Wann ist Ihr nächstes Wrestling wieder übereinstimmen?** (When is your next wrestling match again?)," Asuka asked, "**In zwei Tagen. Ich bin ziemlich zuversichtlich.** (In two days. I'm pretty confident about it.)," Bernhard replied with a certain look on his face, "**Und Ihre Klavierabend? Was ist damit?** (And your piano recital? What about that?)," she asked.

Bernhard coughed to clear his throat, "**Ich Durchführung verschiedener Chopin Nocturnes, sowie die Don Giovanni Variationen von Franz Liszt. Was ich mir Sorgen mache ist meine Pedale.** (I'm performing various Chopin Nocturnes, as well as the Don Giovanni variations by Franz Liszt. What I'm worried about is my pedaling.)," he said but Asuka brushed off his worries, "**Das ist nicht das Hauptproblem mit Ihrem Spiel. Seine mehr über die Farben in Bezug auf die Stimmungen der Stücke, die du spielst. **(That's not the main issue with your playing. Its more about the colors relating to the moods of the pieces that you're playing.)," he looked at her.

Asuka took this as the cue to continue, "**Da Sie seit Jahren spielen jetzt haben, ist die wichtigste Sache zu arbeiten setzen mehr von Ihrer eigenen Emotionen in das Stück, sondern als nur mit perfekter Technik spielen. Vertrauen Sie mir, es ist etwas, was meine Freunde und ich arbeiten ständig an.** (Since you've been playing for years now, the main thing to work on is putting more of your own emotions into the piece; rather than to just play with perfect technique. Trust me, it is something my friends and I are constantly working on.)," she explained and revealed her own situation.

"**Aber Ihr Repertoire ist weit von meiner eigenen. Barock und Romantik Musik haben wenig gemeinsam.** (But your repertoire is far different from my own. Baroque and Romantic music have little in common.)," Bernhard said and Asuka scoffed, "**Aber ohne die Barock, Romantik Musik würde nie existiert haben.** (But without the Baroque, Romantic music would never have existed.)," she retorted and he resigned from debating music with her.

The two then stopped in front of Asuka's new home, a three-story home that was built back in the 1930s, fully restored by its previous owners. Her bedroom was on the second floor, along with her parents' room. Her practice room was located on the third floor, with the other rooms converted into studies for her mom and her now, new father.

"**Ich werde mit dir reden später.** (I'll talk to you later.)," Asuka was about to open the gate leading to the small yard and front door, but Bernhard stopped her, "**Warten. **(Wait.)," she turned around, "**Ich frage mich, ob Sie in der Lage, es zu meinem Erwägungsgrund machen noch in dieser Woche?** (I was wondering if you'll be able to make it to my recital later this week.)," he asked, which in reality, he just wanted her in the audience, hearing him perform. He has a crush on her after all.

She smiled, "**Natürlich. Später.** (Of course. Later.)," she walked up to her front door and closed the door behind her. Inside, she took off her coat and scarf as she walked to the living room where her mom was sitting down on the sofa, across from one of her former Turkish guardians from last year. She sets her things down on the floor next to the available chair she sat on to face her mom and the Turk, "**Nun, wo soll ich anfangen.** (Well, where do I begin.)," Asuka said in a light mood, but hampered by her attempt to end the meeting quickly, in a patient and polite way of course.

**4:15PM**

After fifteen minutes of talking about her year, including the incident involving Lebanon, her former guardian decided that there would

be four more annual meetings like this, with the last one to be scheduled around 2010. After she bid Asuka and Angela goodbye, Asuka spoke up, "**Wann ist Pascal ... Ich meine, wenn Papa kommt nach Hause?** (When is Pascal…I mean, when is dad coming home?)," she asked, finding her updated family status a bit weird to grasp, wonderful to acknowledge.

Angela smiled, "**In einer Stunde oder so. Ich werde zum Abendessen kochen so sauber und wenn Sie fertig sind, komm herab, so dass Sie mir helfen können.** (In an hour or so. I'm going to cook dinner so clean up and once you're done, come down so you can help me.)," she said as she went to the kitchen to start the prep. She and Pascal rotate dinner preparations during the week, depending on their schedules.

Asuka nodded, "**Okay, ich werde in ein wenig.** (Alright, I'll be down in a bit.)," she went upstairs to her bedroom so she can change out of her secretary-esque outfit. So she changed into a white tank top with black sweatpants and sported blue sandals. She looked at herself in the mirror, admiring how she changed quite a bit since last year, and especially since meeting Shinji on board the aircraft carrier. Due to her near daily workout routine involving her skills in Kali and Krav Maga, she has toned legs and her arms revealed strength. Her curves were also something she sported, but in a subtle manner, as to not draw attention to herself and her face has begun to show signs of her becoming a young woman. She tied her long reddish, brown hair into a messy bun and let her bangs frame her face.

She then went downstairs to help out her mother with dinner, "**Okay, was soll ich mit der ersten Hilfe?** (Alright, what do I help with first?)," she asked, "**Schneiden Sie diese Karotten und Kartoffeln zuerst einmal getan sie in den Topf. **(Cut those carrots and potatoes first, once done put them in the pot.)," Angela instructed and Asuka silently complied by chopping up the vegetables. To think, there was something beautiful about normalcy for Asuka, a quality of life where, yes things are hectic in the city, but overall, manageable when compared to her past life involving the Angels and the EVA.

**ISTANBUL, TURKEY**

**ÜSK****Ü****DAR DISTRICT, TUESDAY, 4:45PM**

Fatma was dressed in white sweatpants and a black hood sweater and black sneakers as her Krav Maga lessons were over. She checked her text messages to see if she missed any during the lesson, no new text messages. She sighed and prepared to cross the street, until a boy her age called out her name, "**Fatma, bekle!** (Fatma wait up!)," he yelled as he ran downstairs, dressed in a grey hooded sweater in black sweatpants with white sneakers.

His name is Erdoğan Demir, a tall, tanned young man with thick black hair and chocolate brown eyes who is the object of many girls' fantasies in school. At 5'10'', he has a lean and athletic build thanks to Krav Maga and has been trying to have a date with Fatma for nearly a year. She's turned him down, due to her busy school schedule, and now part of LES MUSICIENS, she hasn't had much of a social life outside of school, except during school and on the weekends.

"**Nereye gidiyoruz?** (Where are heading to?)," he asked, "**Ben ablam Marjan kontrol için eve gidiyorum. O grip korkunç hasta oldu ve en geç yarın ya da Perşembe gününe kadar okula geri dönmeyecek.** (I'm heading home to check on my sister Marjan. She's been terribly sick with the flu and won't return to school until tomorrow or Thursday at the latest.)," she said and the light turned green. She and Erdoğan crossed the street, amidst the noise of traffic.

"**Eh bu çok kötü. Bu gece sinemaya gelmek istiyorum acaba diye mi?** (Well that's too bad. Because I was wondering if you would like to come to the movies tonight?)," he asked and she internally looked at him and noticed a hint of desperation, "**Biliyor musun, bir süredir bana bunu soruyorsun oldum. Neden başkası alamaz? Sadece seninle çıkmak daha yapacağız okulda sürtüklerle bir yeri vardır. **(You know, you've been asking me this for a while now. Why not take someone else? There are a lot of skanks at school who will do more than just go out with you.)," she said with the subtext of those who only like hot guys for one thing.

"**Iyi ben için ... böyle birini aramıyorum Evet. Ben güzel, tahrik olan birini arıyorum, ve Krav Maga benim dövebileceğimi.** (Yeah well I'm not looking for…someone like that. I'm looking for someone who is driven, beautiful, and can kick my ass in Krav Maga.)," he said with a wink and she chuckled, "**Peki, size laçka veya sınıftaki diğer kızlarla flört zaman kıçını tekmelemek bir nokta var.** (Well, you do have a point in kicking your ass whenever you slack off or flirting with the other girls in class.)," she said with a smirk and he laughed abashedly.

She thought about it for a few more moments and ultimately made a decision that was neither herself, nor foolish, "**Tamam, sıra sende.** (Alright, you're on.)," she said and he looked at her confused, "Huh," he asked and she had to spell it out for him, "**Ben ... gidersiniz ... dışarı ... ile ... sen ... bu gece. Bu senin için yeterince açık mı?** (I'll…go…out…with…you…tonight. Is that clear enough for you?)," she playfully asked with a smirk and of course, he smiled like a goof.

"**Wow! Israrımı ödedi gibi görünüyor!** (Wow! Looks like my persistence paid off!)," he said happily, "**Peki sizin için gidiyor bir şey var.** (Well that's the one thing going for you.)," she said nonchalantly and he chuckled.

**5:12PM**

Fatma arrived home after saying goodbye to Erdoğan, promising him again that she'll meet him at the local cinema for tonight around eight or so. She went up to her sister's room to check on her, "**هی****مرجان،****چگونه****شما****احساس؟**(Hey Marjan, how are you feeling?)," she sat on the edge of the bed and checking the forehead, "**بهتر****است،****اما****بدن****من****درد****زیادی****می****باشد****.** (Better, but my body aches a lot.)," Marjan said tired as she sat up on her bed with her hair disheveled.

"**این****طبیعی****است****.****عجیب****و****غریب،****شما****معمولا****این****کار****را****بیمار****می****کنید****. **(That's normal. Strange, you usually don't get this sick.)," Fatma then starts to caress her sister's hair, "**درست****نیست****.****به****یاد****داشته****باشید****دو****سال****پیش****در****اطراف****ماه****دسامبر؟**(Not true. Remember two years ago around December?)," she asked and Fatma nodded knowingly, "**من،****و****که****جدی****آنفولانزا****بود****.****این****یکی****چیزی****است****که****در****مقایسه****با****. **(I do, and that was a serious flu. This one is nothing compared to that.)," Fatma said, "**اما****هنوز****بمکد****. **(But it still sucks.)," Marjan added with a small chuckle.

Fatma laughed and went to Marjan's computer desk to fetch the medication, "**آیا****شما****هر****چیزی****خورده؟**(Have you eaten anything?)," she asked as she handed her sister the medication and the glass of water, "**هنوز****رتبهدهی****نشده****است****. **(Not yet.)," she responded, "**من****شما****را****چیزی****به****سرعت****در****حال****حاضر****.****وقتی****مادر****به****خانه****می****آید،****من****قصد****دارم****... ****من****تاریخ****عضویت****: ****ظاهرا****. **(I'll make you something quickly right now. When mom comes home, I'm going out…I have a date apparently.)," she said and Marjan smiled.

"**که****سرد****است****.****چه****کسی؟**(That's cool. Who with?)," she asked, "Erdoğan Demir," Fatma said and Marjan rolled her eyes, "**من****او****را****دوست****ندارم****.****او****بیش****از****حد****از****یک****لاس****زدن****. **(I don't like him. He's too much of a flirt.)," she expressed her indifference, slight dislike of the guy.

"**من****می****دانم****که****او****لاس****زدن****. ****اما****من****تصمیم****گرفتم****به****او****یک****شات****می****دهد****.****اگر****آن****کار****نمی****کند،****آن****کار****نمی****کند****. **(I know he's a flirt. But I've decided to give him a shot. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work.)," Fatma said as she took off her hooded sweater, "**که****چگونه****همه****چیز****در****حال****حاضر****.** (That's how things are now.)," she added as she conjured up a flame in her right hand and proceeded to have it envelop her sister's head and made its way down to her torso. An old way of healing, and at one time, she nearly burned herself, and not in the physical manner.

Marjan then said something Fatma didn't expect, and didn't know if it was the result of the fever or the healing process, "**دفعه****بعد****هم****که****شما****در****گشت****بین****المللی،****بیرون****رفتن****با****دانته****.****من****او****را****دوست****دارم****و****من****لعنتی****مطمئن****شوید****که****او****شما****را****دوست****دارد****بیش****از****حد****است****. **(Next time you go on an international excursion, go out with Dante. I like him and I'm damn sure he likes you too.)," she said and Fatma turned around and faced her with an unreadable, if slightly abashed expression, "**احتمالا****.** (Probably.)," Fatma said and before Marjan could say anything else she left the room and headed downstairs.

Fatma went to the kitchen and as she took out some vegetables and herbs from the refrigerator, she thought about what her sister said. She did like Dante, a lot. But when Dante said he went out with a girl last month, shortly after her telling him she went on a date, she thought he found himself a girlfriend. But afterwards, she found out that he did went on a few date with that girl, but then the two stopped. Fatma didn't know whether to feel relieved or just nonchalant. She shook her head and resumed to cook something small for her sister.

**8:12PM**

Fatma waited at the café across the street from the local cinema. She was dressed in dark blue skinny jeans, with her dark brown hair in a bun, sported a black tank top with a blue sweater over it, wore some low heels and did put a little make up on. Some chap stick on her lips and did her eyelashes, and that was it. She wasn't the type to wear that much make up, whether she was with friends or by herself walking around doing house errands.

Then she spotted him coming from across the street, dodging the traffic. Erdoğan sported a black sweater with a white shirt underneath, blue slim fit jeans, and white Puma sneakers. He looked good, she had to give him that.

She got up from one of the sidewalk tables and greeted him, "**Sen iyi görünüyorsun.** (You look good.)," he commented, "**Yani yapmak. Gitmeye hazır mısın?Film on dakika içinde başlatmak için gidiyor. **(So do you. Ready to go? The film's going to start in ten minutes.)," she mentioned.

He nodded in agreement and both crossed the street when the light turned green, but that didn't stop some motorists whizzing passed them in their scooters and small cars. As they entered the cinema, they went to their theatre and watched whatever was showing, in this case an American film. Inside, as the two watched, Fatma was focused on the film, but Erdoğan shifted slightly in his seat. This was his first time being on a legitimate date with a girl like Fatma. She, to him was something like a huge impregnable wall, something that required a lot of work to get through to see paradise on the other side. Usually for other girls, they would open up quickly so that they could see if they could get some hot action from him. He wouldn't respond and has grown tired and frustrated with that sort of behavior. Fatma was one of those girls who never opened up to him and would always ball bust him in a playful way; something he enjoyed a lot. She kept him on his toes and after nearly a year of persistence, it paid off for him.

Fatma on the other hand, while watching the film, took brief glances at Erdoğan to her right. She had to admit, she felt a bit glad on accepting his offer for a date; she did have a small soft spot for him. He was respectful towards her and her friends and when he was approached by some of the school's skanks, she could tell he didn't like it that much. So when he started to ask her out, she didn't take him seriously, teasing him a bit to see how far he can really pursue her. So now, she decided to give him a chance. But she didn't know how far this would lead, especially since she's very wary of relationships starting in high school. However, she, like so many in Turkey and in Europe, knows that relationships often portrayed in American cinema are highly unrealistic and heavily preachy. As if to say, one must follow these guidelines in order to live a normal teenage life…she's very critical about this along with her friends, and thankfully her friends in LES MUSICIENS.

**9:48PM**

The movie ended and the two headed out, "**Peki bu iyi oldu.** (Well that was good.)," she said and he agreed, "**Öyleydi. Peki biz yiyecek bir şeyler bulmak? Benim zevkim. **(It was. How about we find something to eat? My treat.)," he offered and she agreed.

As they walked down the street, Fatma could tell Erdoğan was nervous around her so she spoke up, "**Dinle, benimle konuşmaya çalışın böylece ısırmaya gitmiyorum. Gerçekten hakkında bir şey.** (Listen, I'm not going to bite so try to talk to me. About anything really.)," she said, "**Biliyorum ... sadece iyi değil ... ne tür beni korkutmak.** (I know…it's just, well…you kind of intimidate me.)," he ultimately said.

She eyed him and she softened a bit, "**Eh, ben istemem. Sadece bilmeni.** (Well, I don't mean to. Just to let you know.)," she said and the two kept walking.

After a few minutes of walking, they stopped at a simple eatery that served typical Turkish food. Tonight, the owner's daughter was playing music from her iPod over the restaurant's stereo system. The song was "Anti War Dub (featuring Spen G) by Digital Mystikz".

The two ordered their food and as the two, Fatma received a text from Dante. She politely excused herself and headed outside to read the message. It went like this:

[Fatma. Just texting to see how are you. I'm fine. Went on my last date with Clara. It wasn't going to go anywhere. But that's how it goes sometimes. Don't forget this Friday's performance and I cannot wait to see you in the coming weeks in Hamburg ;)]

She smiled at the text and at herself. So she began to reply back quickly, she liked talking to Dante, but didn't want to be rude to her date either. So her response went something like this:

[I know. I don't need a reminder about Friday :P Anyway, I'm on a date. Nothing serious, just want to see if the guy's for real or not. I'll talk to you later. Bye]

She sent the text and closed her cell phone and headed back inside to her date. For the rest of the evening, both enjoyed each other's company and at the end of their date, Erdoğan accompanied her home. The two live within close proximity and as Fatma headed back inside, heading for her room, she forms a flaming ball of light in her left hand and lit up the hallway. She headed inside her room and closed the door behind her, illuminating the room in an orange glow. She glanced at the photo on her desk, with her standing next to Dante at the beach back in Beirut. She smiled briefly and started to undress and headed for bed.

**SALVADOR, BRAZIL**

**PERIPERI SUB-DISTRICT, WEDNESDAY, 3:50PM**

Cecilia supervised the capoeira class while her father was making an important phone call with Mohammad. She was scheduled to go and to be honest, she was a little nervous about traveling again since Beirut. However, since all of her other friends felt similar to her about what went down and dealing with its ramifications. But in addition to her nervousness, she was glad she was going, she was going to see them again and in particular, Wilfredo.

She and he have gotten along well while chatting with each other, either online or via text messaging, or the occasional phone call. He told her that he and Alberto both had crushes on her since knowing about her last year, and she admitted that she knew it all along. But she always had a curiosity about Wilfredo, especially when she overheard Zane and Wilfredo about something that happened to him once before out of earshot. Since then, he peaked her interest as someone more than a cellist, or even someone who's a practitioner in Filipino Kali. She knew he was also a medium, but a medium with a different sort of classification, maybe a budding mystic like herself or Fatma, whom she also conversed and discussed these things during their chats.

She instructed one of the younger students, a girl no more than eight years of age and as she corrected her stance, her father returned and the class resumed its usual session.

**4:30PM**

The walk home with her father was good. She told him about her day at school and how her new arrangement was fitting well with her involvement with the orchestra. He headed for his room to change and do the bills in the kitchen while Cecilia headed up to her room and puts on "Ren 2" by Photek on her iTunes library. She took off her capoeira uniform and changed into some denim cut off shorts that stopped at mid-thigh and a yellow blouse. She also undid her ponytail and let her curly dark brown hair fall down to her shoulders. She puts on her blue sandals and sat down at her computer desk to start her homework.

As she read her history book, her cellphone rang and it was her friend from class, Jacqueline "Jackie" Lopes de Pilares, another Afro-Brazilian like herself, except not adept in capoeira, but she is the best football player at their high school, beating out the boys at their game.

She answered, "**Está? Ah, Jackie! Vais agora para o trabalho?** (Hello? Ah Jackie! Going to work right now?)," she asked, "**Sim... ser uma empregada doméstica consome muito do meu tempo, pouco me sobra para chegar a casa a tempo de comer e estudar.** (Yeah. Being a housekeeper really eats up my time. I barely make it home in time to eat and study these days.)," Jackie replied over the phone, "**Mas disseste que precisavas do dinheiro.**(But you said you needed the money.)," Cecilia responded and she heard her friend sighing on the other end.

"**Eu sei que preciso... mas não me parece que consiga aguentar este emprego. É muito cansativo.** (I know I said that…but I don't think I can handle this job anymore. It's very tiring.)," Jackie said and Cecilia listened. She thought of something, but she needed to talk to her dad about this, but she offered anyway, "**Bem... tu podias, uh... ajudar-me na escola de capoeira do meu pai.** (Well…you can I guess…help me out at my dad's capoeira school.)," she offered and Jackie was surprised.

"**A sério? O teu pai não se ia importar?** (Really? Your dad won't mind?)," she asked, "**Não, mas tenho de falar com ele para ter a certeza. Ou tu própria podes falar com ele.** (No, but I might have to talk to him just to make sure. Or you can talk to him yourself.)," Cecilia said and after a few seconds of silence, Jackie responded, "**Ok, vou falar com ele amanhã.** (Okay I'll talk to him tomorrow.)"

Cecilia was smiling, "**Isso é óptimo! Ia ser bom ter-te por perto. Ultimamente tem sido movimentado, e muito chato ter de aguentar com as tentativas de engate dos rapazes mais novos.** (That's great! It would be fun with you around. Lately it's been busy, and annoying with the younger boys trying to hit on me. Christ. I already get enough of that at school.)," she said with a sigh.

Jackie decided to poke some fun at her friend, "**E o Wilfredo, nos Estados Unidos? Ele é giro e parece-me que quando vou a tua casa, tu estás a meteres-te com ele no video chat.** (And what about Wilfredo from the US? He's cute and there are times when I'm over at your home, you're flirting with him while video chatting with him.)," she said and Cecilia felt her face heat up a bit.

"**Eu não me meto com o Wilfredo, Jackie.** (I do not flirt with Wilfredo, Jackie.)," Cecilia defended herself, "**Oh, vá lá Cecília! Eu vi as fotos da tua viagem ao Líbano. Pelo que vi da vossa viagem À praia, vocês os dois pareciam que estavam a um comentário de se meterem na marmelada.**(Oh come on Cecilia! I've seen your pictures from your trip to Lebanon. From your trip to the beach, you guys were practically one flirty comment away from making out.)," Jackie however called her friend out.

Cecilia rubbed her forehead and instead of yelling in defense that nothing is going on, she just casually replied, "**Pois, como queiras.** (Yeah whatever.)," and she heard Jackie laughing.

She then looked at her computer and then on her work, "**Olha, eu depois falo contido. Se não acabo esta merda, o meu pai vai-me consumir a cabeça outra vez.** (Listen I'll talk to you later. If I don't get this shit finished, my dad is going to run me over in the ring again.)," she said tiredly and Jackie understood, "**Ok, até logo Cecília. Diz olá ao Wilfredo!** (Okay then, later Cecilia and say hi to Wilfredo.)," she said with an almost giggle to her voice, emphasis on almost.

Cecilia rolled her eyes, "**Ok, eu digo-lhe olá por ti.** (Yeah, I will.)," Jackie hung up and so did she. So after a moment or two she returned her focus on her homework and ultimately on the music she will perform in a few weeks time in Hamburg.

**5:14PM**

"**Cecília! Vou começar a preparar o jantar!** (Cecilia! I'm going to start cooking dinner right now!)," her father yelled from the bottom of the stairs, "**Ok!** (Okay!)," she loudly responded.

She sets down her pencil and looked at her Photos library on her computer, clicking on the file with all of the pictures she took and those sent to her from their time together in Beirut. With "Court of the Crimson King" by King Crimson playing from her iTunes library, she browsed through the photos.

There were some photos of Dante with Fatma talking and laughing, Asuka teasing Shinji who shows his abashed amusement, and of course her other friends; Zane, Gilberto, and Alberto. Then came Wilfredo and herself on the beach. At the time, she wore a yellow bikini she brought over from Brazil while Wilfredo wore black shorts with two vertical red stripes on both legs. There were photos of the two of them racing on the wet sand pebbled with small stones, even a few funny ones with him trying to get a piece of glass off; nothing serious. Then were those she really liked, when the two were sitting on the sand and talking.

"**Obrigado Zane.** (Thank you Zane.)," she muttered quietly, chuckling at the memories, prior to the shit going down involving Hezbollah and the Israelis' reaction to the whole thing.

She also remembered the moment when he demonstrated the bit he could do with his abilities. She remembered how his aura glowed a robust blood red and how it literally dripped from his hand during his demonstration. It told her how much he was actually holding back and somewhat fearful of what he could do. But at the same time, she could tell he's done some things he has regretted. And it wasn't just him, she also observed Dante, Asuka, and Shinji whenever they were together talking in Japanese. She could tell how much scars they've got and how much hurt and horror they've seen in their lives. She would never say anything out loud, but it was something she observed and her own aura detected it.

She also remembered demonstrating to him her own abilities to Wilfredo, after he stepped on a piece of glass. She remembered helping him to sit down on the sand and used some seawater, infused with her aura to heal the wound. He winced from the salt, but after a few moments the wound healed completely. He was surprised, and told her how he once thought that aural abilities like theirs and Fatma could only heal spiritual wounds. She remembered telling him that it all depends on not only the individual, but also how a group of people with different cultural histories can influence on the usage of said abilities. Her father had told her that when she was 13, but even that explanation for her doesn't suffice, but it was convincing when she met Wilfredo and Fatma.

The three former Children however were a still a mystery to her.

**5:27PM**

Cecilia was nearly done with her homework and went to the bathroom to wash up for dinner. She rinsed her face and put up her curly hair into a high ponytail again while her phone was ringing in her room.

"**O teu telefone está a tocar, Cecília!** (Your phone is ringing Cecilia!)," her dad yelled from downstairs, "**Eu sei!** (I know!)," she responded loudly so she could hear. So she rushed to her phone, but was too late so the call went straight to her voicemail. She heard the message and instantly groaned…

She went downstairs and helped her dad with the plates and eating utensils. Her father poured himself a glass of **cacha****ç****a**, for unwinding after a long day. He also prepared some fruit juice for himself and his daughter due to their health regimen that revolved around their lifestyle.

As the two began to eat, João asked his daughter about her recent phone call, "**Quem é que te ligou?** (Who called?)," and she looked at him with an annoyed look, "**Era aquele rapaz das aulas de Capoeira.** (Just that guy from capoeira class.)," she mentioned and continued, "**Ele tem insistido demais em sair comigo e levar.-me a uma festa hoje à noite. Eu quero ir, mas não com ele.**(He's been too persistent about taking me on a date and go to a party later tonight. I want to go, but not with him.)," she said as she took a bite of her dinner.

Her father looked at her concerned, "**Será que tenho de falar com ele?** (Should I talk to him?)," he asked, feeling a bit protective about his daughter. She chuckled and brushed off his concerns, "**Não, eu consigo tratar dele. Para além disso, se ele for muito agressivo, eu posso deixar o meu ponto bem claro.**(No. I can handle him. And besides, if he does get too aggressive, I can always use be forward about my response.)," she fiddled with her glass of juice and manipulated the liquid with her hands.

João looked at his daughter and sets down his fork and knife, "**Cecília, eu gosto muito de ti, mas se tu te pões a fazer esse tipo de coisas de novo, vais acabar naquele buraco mais uma vez. Já te esqueceste do que se passou quando tinhas oito anos?** (Cecilia. I love you, but if you ever do that sort again, it will just drag you down into that void again. Or did you forget when you were eight years old?)," he reminded her and she looked at him as the liquid settled back into the glass.

She loved her father, but sometimes she would wish he would calm down a bit, "**Eu mudei pai. As minhas abilidades desenvolveram-se muito desde essa altura e eu não tenho feito nada desse género há anos. Tu sabes disso, porque é que trouxeste esse assunto ao de cima agora?**(I've changed dad. My abilities have grown a lot since then and I haven't done that sort of thing for years now. You know that. Why bring it up now?)," she pointed it out and he sighed.

"**Só estou preocupado, é só isso.** (I'm just worried that's all.)," she looked at him and sighed, "**Sim…eu sei.** (Yeah…I know.)," she replied and the two continued to eat dinner, talking about other things, sharing some laughs and discussing certain important things. They're close and even closer in understanding when the subject of their semi-mystical properties comes up in their talks.

**8:45PM**

Cecilia got off of her short bus ride and walked down the street, with other guys her age passing her to a party that was announced last week. Dressed in leg fitting jeans, a black tank top with the symbol of a condor on her chest. Her hair is let down, with her hair band on her wrist for later. She sported her yellow sandals to walk, not really to impress anyone, but she was the object in a few guys' eyes. But she didn't care, she cared that Jackie was there with her boyfriend Eduardo, a guy from their high school and of white Portuguese descent. As the three exchanged greetings in hugs and kisses, some funk fusion began playing.

"**O nosso pessoal está no palco!** (Our guys are on stage!)," Jackie exclaimed and Eduardo along with Cecilia looked and grinned happily, "**Vamos vê-los, então.** (Let's go and watch.)," Eduardo said and Cecilia followed the two through the crowd.

**PHILADELPHIA, PA, US**

**AMITY DISTRICT, THURSDAY, 12:34PM**

In Amity High, the students were just getting in line to get their lunches and a few of them were discussing on what to do on Friday and for the weekend. Sam sat at a table with Valerie and talked while eating their bagged lunches. Because of the weather outside, Sam wore warm black clothing like a black wool sweater and black jeans. Her scarf was gray with symbols of her band Cannibal Corpse and wore black boots. Valerie wore a gray wool sweater, black scarf, blue jeans with a long underwear underneath and red snow boots.

"Are going to the performance tomorrow night," Sam asked Valerie as she ate her organic vegetable salad, "Yeah, and Tucker is finishing the upgrade on the orchestra's website today. So they'll be able to post their latest performance tomorrow night," she said as she took a bite of her turkey sandwich.

"That's cool, but the one thing I have to deal with tomorrow is Danny struggling not to kick Wil's ass," Sam said and took a sip of her water, "Let me guess, they got into another argument again about their powers," Valerie asked as she chewed on her sandwich.

Sam nodded a no, "Not exactly. Wil just called out on Danny's arrogance. Saying that that type of attitude will get him killed," Sam took another bite of her salad and continued, "I agree with him. I mean, I love Danny, but there are times his attitude just pisses me off," he revealed and has a clear expression of annoyance on her face.

Valerie breathed out of her nose, and thinking that she was right, "I know. Lately he's been too aggressive and too cocky. But when is he never like that. Somehow that works for him," she said and Sam looked at her, "I know. But I think what Wil meant was that since we are high school juniors, he should learn more and adapt his style of fighting of ghosts. Be more…mature about it," Sam said and this somewhat surprised Valerie. Sam was siding with Wilfredo.

But on the other hand, she was expecting this. Wilfredo, despite his reluctance and limited experience with their ghost battles, somehow was the go to guy in case the ghost was too strong or too complicated to solve on their own. His style was more covert, more thought out, while at the same time bull dozing through the ghosts while trying to find out the reasons for their attacks.

Valerie shifted in her chair, "Well…it's not that surprising. More or less, he has more experience. Remember when he fought Vlad two years ago? He has power so well hidden, we probably haven't seen half of what he can do," she said and Sam rubbed her black hair back.

She breathed in and out, "And that's the scary part. What else is he hiding? How powerful is he? What is his connection to these ghosts? And here's something to think about Val. If he's a medium, why are his powers so intense? Usually for mediums, they aren't this strong nor dense in power," she mentioned the strangeness of their friend. Valerie saw the point of her question and bringing it up.

"Who knows? Perhaps Tucker can find out more later," she said and looked back at Sam, "And Danny? Did you tell him about this," she asked and Sam nodded a yes, "I did. But he told me that Wil isn't much of a problem but more of an annoyance. And that pissed me off and I told him that," she revealed. For a few days, Sam and Danny didn't talk to each other and she gave him the cold shoulder, feeling that her opinion was belittled.

Valerie shook her head at this, "I like Danny and all, but seriously, he needs an ass whooping. And he hasn't got one in a while, and I mean a real good one. To remind him that he's not the best and he needs to be humble about what he can do and whom he should listen to," she expressed herself.

The cafeteria got louder and louder with conversations and Sam along with Valerie looked around, "Where's Danny and Tucker anyway," Valerie asked curiously, "They're on their way. Probably fighting traffic," Sam said with as she began eating again.

Valerie chuckled at the thought. Then another thought came to her head, a nearly forgotten one but still potent, "Have you ever found out anything about that boy from two years ago and from last year…the one with the black butterflies?"

Sam stopped eating and looked at her, "Oh man…I wish you didn't bring that up. Danny is this close to being obsessed in finding out who that kid was," she emphasized her two fingers with an inch between them, "But so far, we only found out that kid's last name, Campa," Sam revealed.

And this made Valerie curious, "Okay and how did you find that out," she asked and Sam hushed her voice a bit, "Danny snuck into Wil's room and found a letter written in Portuguese. We didn't understand it at all, but the name Campa came up and we figured out that maybe…" but Valerie interrupted her.

"You went into his room? Are you crazy," she asked all surprised, but under the same hushed tone as Sam, "What if Wil found out? He would have kicked Danny's ass from here to next week!"

"I know, but we finally figured out that boy's last name," Sam said and Valerie ultimately asked, "When did you find this out," and Sam wasted no time in answering, "Two weeks ago."

"And do you think Tucker will be able to find out who he really is," Valerie asked and Sam's expression became a bit more serious and another mixed in that indicated confusion, "You see that's the weird part."

Valerie motioned her friend to continue, "The records are written in Catalan, not Spanish. We tried to do it ourselves, but we couldn't read one single sentence," she revealed their own frustrations.

"And I suspect that you thought of planning to ask Wil for help, but if you do that…" Valerie started and had Sam finish the obvious thought, "We would have to confess that we violated his trust. Jesus."

Then Sam added something else to the mix, "But we did find something that was true about Campa. He did die in 1938, around May or so," she revealed, "But all it said was that a village was wiped out by the soldiers in league with Franco. Nothing on who died or the names either."

Valerie then asked, "Was it because it was a small town or what," but then Sam shrugged her shoulders, "Possibly. But that would mean another set of records we don't have access to. Even Tucker is finding it hard to search through documents written in a language we don't understand."

"But if you somehow get Wilfredo involved, do you think he'll understand Catalan," Valerie asked, "No, I don't think so. The only way is to find Campa, but he's in Spain in the Catalonian Region. God knows where he is exactly," Sam expressed her frustration and now seeing why Danny is so annoyed with Wilfredo. There are a lot of things they didn't know about what went down last year or even the year before.

**DECEMBER 2006, WEEK ONE, MONDAY**

**CATALONIAN REGION, 15 MILES OUTSIDE OF BARCELONA, 2:34PM**

With only a month to go before the year ended and 2007 begins, the Campa boy packs a slice of cornbread, a handful of olives and dried figs in his bag. He grabbed a stick to fend off canine attacks and then off he went. The cold weather was biting his skin, so he dressed in brown pants with a forest green jacket with a thick brown scarf. Underneath he wore a simple buttoned long sleeved white shirt with a brown vest over it.

He settled in the area close to the old man who knows his past. He took along the hunting dog as he trekked through the bush and heading up a hill covered in trees. As he walked up hill, not minding the exertion at all, he noticed an old farmhouse with acres of property for horses. He noticed a young wealthy family leaving for the city on a paved road. For some reason, he decided to check it out, calling his dog to come along.

Five minutes later, he arrived at the ranch and the home. Walking through the pasture and levitating over the wooden barriers to house the horses and their young and no sign of anyone watching the property, well, not the ones that mattered to him, he unlocked the door and headed inside the home. As he walked inside, a sense of unease enveloped over him. He had the dog stay outside, to bark in case the owners returned. He climbed the stairs and headed for the attic and once there, he noticed boxes and boxes of papers. He picked up a note, no more than a few days old:

**Ha donar a la biblioteca d'aquesta ciutat en el pròxim mes. **

(Must donate this to the city library within the next month.)

He opened one of the boxes and picked out a random file, but to him, it felt automatic. As if he knew which one to pick up and read. He opened the aged file and smelling the mold off of the papers, he found a series of documents that described the suspected people believed to have harbored communist sympathizers. One of the villages was named and he instantly remembered, but along with the names of the families, one family came out: **CAMPA.**

It only described a family with a father, a mother, two older daughters, and one son. He read the name of the son…it was his own: **JORDI CAMPA.**

"My name…my actual name…so now what? What am I to do with that man from last year," he asked himself and decided to smuggle some of the papers relating to him into his bag and headed out of the attic.

Once downstairs, he called his dog and headed back for the hill. He was one step closer to closure, but felt something that Wilfredo will not be able to help him…it was something he had to deal with on his own…at least for the time being…

**~TO BE CONTINUED~**

**Thus ends 2006. I hope the ride wasn't too long and too realistic for many of you. Okay, in the end, when I had Campa discover his name, I wanted it subdued and foreshadowing to something I had already written in my already completed side story: Six Degrees of Separation. In addition, I had the Philadelphia bit a tad shorter than the others due to the fact I wanted the girls to be frank about their two friends. **

**Again I would like to thank HolyDragoon for his help with the Portuguese bit and giving me advice on how to handle certain ideas in this story. Albeit, it doesn't have a style of speech that might be spoken in Salvador, but he did his best and that's all I can ask for. **

**Read, review, critique, and I'll see all of you in the final story for arc one, 2007. Take care.**


End file.
